Counterfeit Prince
by Altered910
Summary: "The Ryoma we know is… fake? How?" "Ryoma's been dead for years. The boy who you play on a regular basis is his twin." As the Seigaku regulars begin noticing cracks in their freshman's mask, they dig deeper, but can they reach the boy who has willingly buried himself in his brother's shadow? On Hiatus
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN Prince of Tennis. That belongs to whole bunch of people that I don't remember the names of.

Warnings: Slightly AU, as Ryoma isn't really Ryoma. Canon, but will diverge after Nationals – if I write it that far.

* * *

The last thing that he thought of in this life was that entrancing green ball he'd seen, even before he could walk. The lime green thing had been so light, and his dad had been so happy to see he was playing with it. He remembered the game that the old man had been teaching him – tennis. It had to be the best thing he'd ever experienced. Even better than ice cream, he was sure.

Images of his short life were chased across his mind by the electricity that had ended him, most of times with his family and with tennis, and Ryoma Echizen could only cry out once in pain before he knew no more.

* * *

Ryoga, only a first year in middle school, watched as his younger brother was wheeled into the ER, the doctors trying to revive him as they went. The burns on his body were severe, and Ryoga was glad when he disappeared behind the swinging doors; they would be able to save him in whatever laid beyond them.

In a chair, weeping, was his mother. She was holding a wrinkled handkerchief to her eyes, and though her sobs were silent, her trembling shoulders communicated perfectly how scared she actually was for her little boy's life. His father was obviously concerned, though he didn't express it in such a deplorable way; a frown marred his eyebrows and mouth, but he seemed to be keeping strong for the rest of the family. However, his trained eyes caught the fine shaking that betrayed the usually loud man, a nearly invisible quivering in his shoulders, jaw, and hands that were rubbing circle's on his mother's back.

Ryoga then turned his eyes from them to the other patients, who were throwing the family piteous looks - were this any other possible situation, he would've hated them for that. It appeared to have been a rather slow day in the ER, so Ryoma's injuries took priority over the others. The only injury that would prompt concern was a small girl with a red towel wrapped around her forefinger*; that begged a raised eyebrow.

A lump suddenly shifted onto his shoulder, and Ryoga shifted his gaze downwards. His other younger brother was finally asleep, though there was still a taut feel to his expression. His hair, slightly longer than Ryoma's own, fell into his eyes; the tips were stiff from the boy's dried tears. Young boys weren't supposed to look so distressed in their sleep, especially not Ryoshi. He was too sweet to be burdened by the real world.

"Ryoga, can you please bring your brother here?" His dad was glancing at his brother strangely. Ryoga frowned; was the old man going to pretend Ryoshi didn't exist? As he obeyed the command, Ryoga considered the boy, and how he was so identical to his brother, though he lacked the affinity for tennis that the other males of his family had. He loved the game, pure and simple, an innocent crush that displayed how he was missing the brilliance that the rest of them shone with; Nanjirou had always favored his brothers oh so much more.

As the boy was taken from his arms, Ryoga relaxed at seeing his brother cradled by both parents, who whispered his name into his hair and ears. The preteen suspected it was their mantra for warding away the ill harm that his twin had come to. "I'm so relieved that he wasn't hurt as well."

Time inched by as the frazzled parents calmed down some, though the lack of any sort of notification had left them tense. Finally, after two hours or so, a doctor came out, their family name on his lips. Ryoga couldn't read anything from the stony face of the tall doctor, and that set him even more ill at ease. He had good news to deliver, right? Weren't they supposed to smile at good news?

"Can I please have the Echizen family follow me back?" Now was not the time for humor, Ryoga thought dourly, as the American doctor had messed up their name. The people of this country always seemed to do that, and it never got any funnier.

He figured then that it was out of their own fear that his parents refrained from asking about their other son's condition or correcting the physician.

The doctor stopped them in one of the small offices, not too far down the hall.

"I apologize-" No, wait, that not's what he's supposed to say! He's a doctor isn't he? They're supposed to save their patients, not let them die! "-But we were unable to save your son. We managed to resuscitate him several times, but he never actually stayed with us. After the last few tries, when we could no longer get a response out of him, we came to the conclusion that he has moved on." Three pairs of wide eyes stared back; the doctor stared regretfully at them, and at the boy on his father's back, so obviously his patient's twin. "If you wish, you can come back and see him."

At Nanjirou's insistent nod, the doctor led them into hall, taking the left path when their course split. The rest could only follow. Though he had always found them appalling, Ryoga felt suddenly crazed by the white washed walls. This was where his little brother had just died, shouldn't they be more melancholy? Grey or black, maybe a darker version of lime green of his favorite sport's icon. Anything but the innocent, unknowing, _unfair_ white that the walls were now.

But the world didn't sway to the whims of a nosocomephobic twelve-year-old, and the walls remained the same as they ever were.

The room that the body was in was no different. White washed and plain, it only served to heighten the grief of the family; this hospital didn't care about their loss or their agony. Their boy was lying on the bed, under the covers so that only a vague outline of his figure was visible. The doctor carefully uncovered the boy's head, where there were several burns, all black and red and agitated. Had he not been so totally aware of what was happening, and were it not so very painfully obvious, he might've been asleep for the night, instead of forever.

It was then that he wondered where the doctor had gone; he noticed the door was completely shut where it had been cracked slightly moments before. The doctor must have tactfully slipped out when he wasn't looking. Not that that was very hard.

To his right, he sensed rather than heard the gasps of his family, and then they were by his bedside. Rinko was sobbing into the boy's hair, his head cradled to her chest. Nanjirou sank to the floor, his bluffed strength finally giving out on him.

It was to their wails that Ryoshi - his only younger brother now – awoke. His eyes, peering over his father's shoulders, immediately latched onto his crying mother. They then frantically scanned the room before landing on Ryoga. Those bright eyes, so much younger than he felt they should have been, in the wrongest place they could've ever existed, were what finally had him averting his eyes and bolting from the room.

* * *

Ryoshi watched as his brother turned and ran from the room. Why did everyone seem so sad? Ryoma was gonna be alright, right? He couldn't die; they were twins. Didn't all twins always remain together? One little accident couldn't take his brother away; he was too cool, too great at tennis to be gone. They were just mistaken; that's all.

His mother chose that moment to shift and Ryoshi got the first good look at him that he'd had since the accident. He was sleeping, wasn't he? He wasn't gone, was he? No! He couldn't be... But his brother's face was so pallid, the years of natural tanning no match for the evil veil of death. There were several nasty, black burns that he couldn't stand to look at, and even the tips of Ryoma's hair were crisped, as though the electricity had sought to eliminate that which was already dead. But what gripped him so about his brother's death…

Ryoshi could see himself in the exact same position, could see his own face, lying there on that white pillow; it was just so easy envision it all. He might as well _be_ the one laying on that bed; it was just that simple. Had he not been the one to stumble, he would have been exactly the same.

Ryoshi suddenly couldn't look in a mirror, especially the one that floated right before his being.

* * *

A/N: I would much rather focus on my other story, but I want feedback before I update it. Also, this plot bunny wouldn't stop being a pest, so I began it. I felt that I should pay tribute to one of my all time favorite anime. Expect an update… whenever. My other story takes priority.

* PM me if you want to hear the story behind that.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The amount of feedback I'm getting is truly astounding. None of my stories have done this well on the first day, or week for that matter! Please continue giving me your support, and thanks! I also appreciate constructive criticism, so don't hesitate to comment!

BTW: I'm trying to do weekly updates, so Mondays are the days to look for.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. That belongs to a bunch of other people I don't know.

Warning: In case it wasn't obvious, this is AU. Also, there is some family fighting, so be warned.

* * *

Ryoshi wandered down the stairs the next morning, only to see his parents still downstairs. He noticed that they were still wearing the same clothes as they were at the bad place – he refused to call it anything but; how could it be good when it took his brother? His mother was still hiding behind that wrinkled cloth of hers, and his father was staring blankly into the TV screen, though nothing flickered on it.

As he moved down the hallway, he noticed the smell of something burning.

He tried to move quietly, and it apparently worked, because they never turned to look at him once, but as he snuck into the kitchen, his brother whipped to face him. His eyes were rimmed in red, and there many little stains on the front of his shirt. The burning smell had magnified, and now Ryoshi could see why; there was a stack of burnt toast in the trash, and another two pieces popped out of the toaster, also blackened beyond edibility.

Ryoga turned to them and quickly cast them into the trash with the others. With his back turned to his brother, he finally felt it safe to talk. "You hungry, squirt?" If his voice was a little higher than normal, well, then, it was just the heat messing with his voice. Noticing that they were currently out of bread, Ryoga reached for an orange. At least it seemed as though Ryoshi had gotten some sleep; he couldn't say the same for the rest of the family.

"Uh…" What could he possibly want to eat? How could he possibly think about food when his twin, his mirror image, his other half, could no longer taste anything? His eyes begin to drift with the guilt that he couldn't help feeling. "No, not really…" A squishy, wet sound drew his wandering eyes back to Ryoga. The orange he had grabbed was flatter now; it seemed this too was annihilated by his sibling. Maybe he wasn't hungry, either. The food certainly didn't _want_ to be eaten.

Ryoga sighed; food just wasn't agreeing with him today. "I'm going out. If they ask where, say the beach." As he headed towards the backdoor, he saw his brother still standing in the doorway. "You want to come? Mom and Nanjirou are just going to be moping around here at the house; getting out of it will probably be better."

A split second decision was all it took. "If we can play tennis."

Ryoga blinked. "Uh, sure, if you grab your stuff." Maybe a good game will get his mind off of his other brother.

* * *

"Ryoshi! Dinner's ready!"

"Uisu!" Rinko Echizen felt her eyebrows furrow at the word. Since when had her baby boy had a deep voice? He was only eight; he shouldn't sound like Ryoga so soon, right?

Footsteps drew her attention to the door. "Are you okay, Ryoshi? Do have a cold?" She placed a hand on his forehead; he didn't feel particularly warm. Maybe he was just pretending to be an adult, then?

He simply ducked under her arm. "I'm fine, mom." He glanced at the table, and then his cool, teenage attitude dissolved. The whining in his voice wasn't quite on Ryoga's level just yet. "Can't we have Japanese food for once?"

Rinko shook off her confusion at the change and chuckled. "If they sold the correct ingredients, then of course, but for now you're just going to have deal with American food."

Later that night she told her husband about it. Right after she got rid of his magazines.

Nanjirou shrugged, then looked sadly at his magazine. "His birthday was a few days ago; maybe he wants to pretend he's older?" His wife looked dubious, but it was all he could really come up with. Kids were always pretending to be something they weren't.

His boy's voice rang out from the kitchen, the same deep one that had his mother concerned. "Hey, old man, after dinner, can we play?"

"Sure, kid. Now hurry up and eat."

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this, Ryoshi? Your tennis has improved a lot, really, but I don't think you're ready for an official tournament." Nanjirou still couldn't get over the fact that his son had suddenly demanded to participate in the junior tournament. That was just too arrogant, even for him.

"I'm nearly nine, dad, I think I can handle a little tournament."

"Just let him do it dad. I think he's a little better than you give him credit for." Ryoga was angry, why were they even arguing? Ryoshi could handle anything the other twerps threw at him. He was stronger than he pretended.

They would watch as Ryoshi completely destroyed his opponents. It was a mock tournament, with only a fifty dollar prize for the winner and no title, but they saw his potential in the sport through the way he decimated the competition.

As Ryoshi walked towards them, Ryoga nudged the adult. The smirk on the boy's face wasn't anything like the usual, sweet Ryoshi. It almost reminded them of Ryoma, dead for over two years. Ryoma was the arrogant one, so why was it Ryoshi wearing that smirk?

"Congratulations, brat. You-"

"Still say I'm not ready, old man?" The smirk grew a little.

* * *

Another door slammed. "What do you mean, you're leaving?" Ryoshi, in his bedroom, winced. Ryoga's room was right next to his, and the sound went easily through the walls. His father and brother were really going at it; his room was the only safe place from the feuds that had been happening more and more often.

"What do you think I mean? What else could I mean? I'm sick of this house!"

"Come now, you two. Can't we discuss this at all?"

"I wish, but this brat's not having any of it."

"That's because you guys aren't paying any attention to Ryoshi! He's changing, impersonating Ryoma more and more, and you guys aren't doing anything about it! I can't stand to see my only brother impersonating his dead twin, but what I can't stand even more is how you aren't doing anything about it!" _I need out!_ Was what went unsaid.

There was a crash as something was thrown down the stairs. "You're only seventeen! What on earth can you do in the streets! How are you going to support yourself?" Najirou was infuriated. He blamed them for Ryoshi's behavior? Wasn't it just a preteen thing?

Silence, then Ryoga spoke up softly. "I got an offer that would support me, playing tennis for some rich tycoon's team. I play, he supports me." It wasn't the total truth, but if it got them off his back, then damn it all to hell.

Ryoshi could hear his mother crying, just outside his door, where she obviously decided she couldn't take it anymore. "If we could -hic- do anything, we would. But it c-could very well just be s-something else!"

"Then take him to a doctor or something! Get a diagnosis! But what he's doing isn't right! Ryoma's possessing him, and he's letting it happen! There's nothing _right_ about that!" A pause, as Ryoga huffed for air. "Ryoshi! You can hear me, can't you, bud? Listen, I'll stay if you stop. Just be yourself; you don't need to pretend to be someone else!" The house was silent as it waited for its youngest occupant's response.

The door opened. As he thought, his mother was against the wall opposite his door, eyes red and tears falling off of her face. His father was on one of the middle steps, and his brother was glaring up from the landing. They all seemed to be saying _Make the decision, already._

Ryoshi felt the pressure begin to weigh on him. He was only eleven! How was he supposed to make a decision that could tear apart his family? They'd already lost a son because of him, and what he said next could cost them another. What was he supposed to say to make it all better?

He still didn't understand, he would always think in hindsight, because whatever he had said next had forced his only other sibling out of his life. Possibly forever.

* * *

"Fools! Don't you even know your own grip?"

_Swing!_

"If you want to do top-spins, you use the Western grip." _Shuffle._ "It's done by holding the racket like you're going to shake someone's hand." _Whoosh! _"Here!"

"That's why you're the ace at the Kitagoe tennis club." _Hoo… _The racket nearly hit her in the face. Again. _Suuu…_

"Stupid! Its common sense!" Nearer, advancing, closer came that racket. She didn't want to see it coming.

"Hey." What? "You guys are too loud." Who's he? He looks my age.

"Heh, I can't believe I just got told off by a grade-schooler…"

"Bingo." What's bingo? "Taking a racket from the ground is the correct western grip." Oh, so he plays tennis, too? But should he really be correcting these upperclassmen? They look really mad, especially the one picking up his racket.

"What?"

"Oh, by the way, the handshake grip you were referring to is called the Eastern grip." The strange boy shrugged. "There are some who mix them up." The train chose then to come to a stop. He was getting off here, also?

"Hey, you! Wait up!" Is he really gonna ignore him?

"Haha. Sasabe, you got dissed!"

"Yo, we better get off too!" No, they're coming as well?

"Ah, me too!" Ryuuzaki Sakuno dashed off the train, hoping to find the arrogant boy and thank him.

* * *

"Fool. I wasn't playing seriously. I can beat you if there was one more set."

"Sasabe… Just stop…"

"Just admit that you lost…" The sound of a throat being cleared drew their attention to the invincible squirt.

"It's fine with me if you want to play one more set…" Then the old lady watching on the sidelines sighed.

"Don't you get it? You stubborn fool… You can't beat Ryoma Echizen no matter how many times you try."

"What are you talking about?" Ryoma took the chance to switch hands.

"He's left-handed…"

"No way…" The pompous teenagers watched in awe as the green ball was tossed high in the sky, then hit with dangerous accuracy, bouncing from under Sasabe. It rolled harmlessly until it came in contact with the wire fence. It wasn't even all that special, but...

"I-I quit." Never had any tennis player fled with their tails between their legs after a match. Sasabe was out in three seconds flat. His friends right behind him.

Coach Ryuuzaki chuckled. "_Ryoma Echizen, he's a monster… It'll be fun from here on."_

* * *

_A/N Fixed the line break issue; FF deleted what I had. Thanks to the reviewers who told me about it. _


	3. Chapter 3

Again, just a remarkable amount of feedback from all of you! Sorry if this chapter is different, but this is where the story actually begins, so I can't heap on the tragedy anymore. Please, continue to give me your support.

Disclaimer I do not own Prince of Tennis. That belongs to other people. I also don't own "Viva La Vida." That belongs to Coldplay and their owners.

* * *

Momoshiro Takeshi sighed. Today's practice had been grueling, just as it had been every day since the last inter-school ranking matches. Why did his _sempai_ insist on either running them into the ground with training or into the nurse's office with his lethal "vegetable juice?" (The rest of the world - sans one prodigy - secretly agreed this abomination was poison.) However, it was especially bad for the regulars, who got even harder training when compared to the rest of the team.

It had been stamina practice all afternoon long; it normally wouldn't be so bad, but they had been doing it so often that the entire team was beginning to wear down. Kikumaru-_sempai_ had actually dropped out, though he had to run laps after his break; Momoshiro thanked whatever gods that were listening that he hadn't been caught laughing at his _sempai's_ misfortune - maybe they had mistaken his laughing for wheezing – because then he would've been running right along with him. Even the snake, the training monstrosity of the team and known for having the best stamina out of all of them, had to take a short breather after it was all over. Momoshiro was smart enough to see blackmail material when it was presented. He would be remembering it for later.

Luckily for him, whose stamina was so-so but still left much to be desired, Momoshiro had the perfect pick-me-up.

"Hey, Echizen, wanna go out for burgers?" Ah yes, burgers, the comfort food of the gods. Most would think that a cold treat would have been ideal for this situation, but he didn't want ice cream or the like, as he doubted a cold and sticky treat would really fill him up the way a few good burgers would, and the nearest ice cream parlor was much farther than his favorite burger joint. He wasn't willing to do any more biking than he absolutely had to.

"Sounds good." The littlest regular was almost done packing his bags anyways, so a snack on the way home would be no trouble. "You're paying, though."

"Stop leaching food off of me, Echizen! And hurry up."

"I'm already done, _sempai_."

In accordance with ancient customs, Momoshiro's bike was loaded with two teenage boys and all their stuff, and set a-rolling down the road. It was a mostly silent, short trip, with each boy lost in their own thoughts. Mostly silent because the driver was humming some vague tune softly and almost under his breath.

Within minutes the duo had arrived at their preferred burger place, and had placed their orders – a small snack for the freshman and a three burgers for his companion. They chose to sit by the window, and settled into the seats next to the corner booth. Maybe it would be quieter, if no large group of people decided to come settle in the large table.

Overhead, America's number one song was playing over head. Momoshiro, to his friend's surprise, began singing along softly, albeit with butchered English.

"… _It was the wicked and wild wind_

_Blew down the doors to let me in_

_Shattered windows and the sound of drums_

_People couldn't believe what I'd become…"_

Ryoma listened in silence as his sempai sang, right up until the end of the vocal part. His food was almost gone, but Momoshiro still had two burgers to go. He debated leaving the other alone, but then he missed out on a ride home.

"_Sempai_, do you know what that song means?"

Momoshiro looked up from where he was stuffing his face. "Huh?"

"Did you understand what you were singing?" The boy reiterated.

He got a shake of a head in answer.

Ryoma took to twisting his straw trough his lid; Momoshiro got the feeling he was going to say something important, and so swallowed the food that was halfway down his gullet. "Mada Mada Dane." The boy sighed; it was a rather long explanation. Momoshiro looked affronted, but kept his objections down. "It's about the rise and fall of man. How it's easy to get the world and lose it in an instant. It's the reflections of a man who has lost everything he'd worked for, and how badly it backfired on him. _'Revolutionaries wait/ for my head on a silver plate… Oh who would ever want to be king?'_ It's actually a lot more tragic when you understand what it's saying." He eyed the burger and a half that his _sempai_ still had to go. "I'm not waiting much longer; hurry up and eat." And Momoshiro promptly went back to stuffing his face.

* * *

The next week was spent on saving impossible shots, as many of their upcoming opponents were renowned for having dangerous trick shots, that, according to Inui, they had almost no way of preparing for, other than drilling repeatedly with what they had. Here, whereas he was failing last week, was where Kikumaru thrived. He was expecting a riveting match with Oishi once he was done, but the accuracy specialist was helping some _kouhai_ that were finding the shot training hard.

Nearby, Momo and Kaidoh were having an official match to settle their usual argument of who could be better than whom. They had originally planned to settle it with the accuracy test, but they'd come out dead even, so they had resorted to an actual match. Some of the younger groups were watching, and Fuji was there, smiling at the entire ordeal. Kikumaru had no doubt that he was enjoying the match and its audience in a way only he could – with a scary kind of fascination.

_Ochibi is playing on his lonesome, maybe he'll come play with me?_ Indeed, Ryoma was hitting a wall, in the same spot, a testament to his ability. He seemed to be tuning out the world, the steady beating of the ball its own type of music. He was also glaring at the world.

"Why're you glaring at the wall, _ochibi-chan_?"

"I'm pretending it's my dad. He's been annoying me a lot lately." The ball made a couple more revolutions between the wall and boy.

"Oh." Kikumaru wondered if he shouldn't find someone else to play with.

"Is there something you need, _sempai_?"

"No one wants to play with me. Everyone else is already doing something, and I don't think playing with the non-regulars will be any fun."

A short pause followed as Ryoma actually took the time to sigh. "Well, this wall is big enough for the two of us." As though to display just how big, the freshman shuffled over, giving Kikumaru his own little spot on the wall.

His eyes wide and grin wider, Kikumaru tackled the other boy to the ground, words of appreciation on his lips. Unfortunately, that killed whatever time they may have had to practice on the shared wall, as it was time for group practice once again.

Over on court C, there was a collective sound of disappointment from the competitors and audience alike. Sans, of course, Fuji, who merely chuckled in his strange way.

Standing in rows, the entirety of Seigaku's tennis team faced the captain and manager. "Next week begins the Tokyo Prefectural Tournament. Our first match shall be against Setagaya Inoi Gakuen. While they aren't known for being particularly strong, there are rumors around their team about new management. As it were, I couldn't gather any solid information on them, so beware any surprises they may have forthcoming. Anything you'd like to add, Ryuuzaki-_kochi_?"

"We've worked hard, so don't let us down by losing this early on. And all of you non-regulars, make sure to come and cheer us on. Don't forget your own, personal training methods, so that you may be the ones to help us to Nationals by the next Inter-School Ranking matches. That's all. Pack up and head home."

The neat rows were disbanded as the team went to either clean up or change. Kikumaru looked for his favorite freshman. He was back at the wall. "Ne, _ochibi-chan_? Is that offer going to be open again?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, sure." Ryoma seemed to be concentrating on the wall more than listening, but he had still said yes.

"YAY! Thank you, _ochibi_!"

"Ugh, _sempai_, get off!"

* * *

_Thanks for reading. As for Fuji, I just find him to be a very strange character. Always have, always will, but at least he's a strange protagonist. But I love him and everyone from Seigaku. Oh, BTW can you tell me if they are OOC? I find it hard to tell if the characters I'm writing are in character, so I really need to know if it seems that way to you guys. It's kind of why I don't like writing fics that aren't AU, and I'm challenging myself to keep this a little canon, but I need help!_


	4. Chapter 4

Hopefully this chapter will be better than last week's. That really was just a starter; I had absolutely no idea how to start it, as that is definitely a weakness of mine. Note, I'm on Alaskan time, so by the time I update, it's probably already Tuesday for most of you, so sorry!

Note: Any dates given are referenced from the actual Prince of Tennis timeline.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

* * *

_Saturday, May 24, 2008_

_Dear Brother, _

_ I thought I would, in writing, start marking down your victories. You're starting to get really well-known, at least in circle we're currently occupying. Seigaku is really fighting for their way into nationals, and the training menu has really become relentless. It's all for a good reason, I suppose, but the others are finding it rather strenuous. _

_ Your opponents were really tough, but of course you won. St. Rudolph – I laughed at the name; I wonder how they celebrate Christmas? – had this lefty killer that turned out to be Fuji-_sempai's_ younger brother. Yamabuki had this violent guy that actually tried to attack one of your classmates, thinking that he was me. He was really tall, too, and he had this really strange way of standing and going after the ball. It was amazing to see your tennis emerge victorious over them both. They had these awesome shots, and I kinda wish that I was good enough; it might be interesting to see how they fare against the sempai-tachi. _

_ That being said, the _sempai-tachi_ have become extremely frightening. Inui has come up with an even more horrific "nutritional" drink. The fights between Kaidoh-_sempai_ and Momo-_chan-sempai _have become much more intense, and Fuji-_sempai_ only seems to enjoy fanning the flames. Overall, it's become insanely manical, and when this is over, it will probably take forever to get used to the peace. _

'Tou-san_ has also become ridiculous, lately. He's been suggesting these really strange match-ups, such as playing with the racket under his arm or tied to his head. I wonder, what would he say if I agreed to play him like that once? You would totally smoke him!_

_ …I've got so many letters to give you, still… Will you ever write back? Have you been reading the ones I've been sending you?_

_ I know you're right here with me, but I thought maybe you'd feel better if you could have something to remember them by. I know I do; every letter thus far that I've written you, I have a copy of it for myself. It's kinda like my own personal calendar. It really helps me remember everything._

_ Hold on just a little longer, Ryoma. Your tennis will be known world-wide soon. I can just feel it. Something is going to change soon. _

_With love, _

_Ryoshi_

With that, the pen was laid on the desk, and the hand holding it came to rest upon its owner's face. His hand was a little sore, a little red from holding the utensil, but it would return to normal soon enough. Until then, he couldn't leave his room.

Ryoshi had debated going to visit his brother today, and taking with him all the letters he'd written lately, but he eventually decided against it. He'd go on a day when it didn't seem so conspicuous for a teen to be out, late as it was. As it were, he expected his mom to call him down for dinner any time now. Maybe Saturday, after practice let out.

"Ryo-_chan_! Dinner is ready!" There was his mom now. He quickly glanced at his hand; it looked normal enough.

"Uisu!" The letter stirred a little as his door shut.

* * *

It was simply another, tiresome day at practice. The entirety of team was pushing themselves to their limits in the hot weather, and the sun refused to be shadowed. As neither seemed to relent, it was only a matter of time before something managed to happen.

As it turns out, though, it wasn't anything related to the heat. At least not directly.

It all started with the second round of the team running thirty laps. It was something inconspicuous, to be sure, as no one noticed it, but it was enough that the entire team was distracted. The team was employing the use of a ball machine, and as there were no outlets on the court, an extension cord was running from the changing rooms to the courts. With the non-regulars stumbling and tripping over their own feet from fatigue, it was only time before someone managed to trip over it. Granted, Inui had taken the chance of someone hitting it into accordance, but he was determined to punish anyone who wasn't able to finish his menu for the day.

Although, never in his wildest calculations would he predict it to end as this particular on had. What once was one person who succumbed to the cord quickly became three and four. Soon, ten odd people were panting on the floor, their screaming muscles preventing them from literally rising to the challenge again. As the person atop the dog pile rolled down, he bumped into one of the runners who were simply swerving to avoid.

Momoshiro mentally whined about how it was just his luck, his sweat flying off of him as he went down. The angle at which hit meant his back was to the school facilities, and the already sparse wind was knocked out of him as they met. As the other regulars turned tail to examine what exactly the commotion was, several of the others were rushing to check on him.

"Don't touch him!" Coach Ryuuzaki's voice rose above the crowd. "If he's hit his head we can't move him until we can ascertain how severe it was." She knelt in front of the cringing boy. "So, on a scale of one to ten, how badly is your head hurting?"

Maybe it was the pain, or maybe her voice was too loud for him, but Momoshiro winced at the question. "Umm… maybe a five or six. Could you speak a little more quietly? You don't have to yell."

"So you have a headache, huh? Anything else that you can feel?" She stopped, noticing the others all crowding them. "The rest of you get back to your laps. Oishi, would you mind running him to the nurse? The rest of you scram!" Momoshiro winced again. "As for you, I think you'll need to take a break. Take off today, and if you still feel ill tomorrow, you'll rest then, too. But hopefully you won't need to." As he was carted away, she sighed and returned to Inui's side. "And we were just about to get to the fun part…"

"Don't worry, coach. I'm sure Momoshiro will be okay by the time that we head off."

"Chances?"

"Eighty-three percent chance this won't trouble him beyond tomorrow afternoon."

"Great… More paperwork."

Inui could only chuckle to that. "Now, for all of those who have succumbed to the wire, would you like to try my newest edition of Penal Tea?" The boys who were still on the floor trembled in rightly placed fear.

Five minutes later…

"AAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH! T-THERE'S A LEG IN MY DRINK!"

* * *

_Again, feedback is much appreciated! In fact, i would prefer if you tore it apart and looked for any sort of mistake!_

_Thanks to the anonymous reviewer who corrected a mistake in the last chapter!_


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, so as of Last week's update, I have topped 2K+ hits! Thanks so much! You guys give me confidence to keep writing! Truthfully, I'm giving this priority over my other chapter-fic. Guess that's how the balls rolls.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis

Warning: Kinda sorta OOC from "Ryoma" though I'm not sure since, well, the canon Ryoma for me is actually Ryoshi and…

* * *

_Thursday, May 29, 2008_

_Dear Ryoma, _

_ I know I just wrote, but I had something to tell. This week, Momo-_chan-sempai _had an accident! It was a really strange, how it all happened. Inui-_sempai_ said the chances of that happening had been under 5%. A bunch of the non-regulars were so tired that they tripped over a really small cord, and ended up in a dog pile. _

_ Maybe you're wondering how that ties in with Momo-_chan-sempai_, but it gets so weird afterward that I'm not sure how to describe it to you. I guess you could say that Momo-_chan-sempai _tripped over the hill of people and somehow ended up hitting his head on the wall of one of the buildings! He couldn't come to practice for two days. Coach almost sent him to the hospital!_

_ I'll be dropping off the letters soon, so this is probably the last one I'll write to you before I hand them in. _

_ It'll be our anniversary soon, big brother. It's already been five years, huh? I can hardly believe it. I guess I'll be seeing you on Sunday._

_Seeing you soon, _

_Ryoshi_

* * *

It was two days later that found Echizen taking early morning trains and riding bumpy buses to visit his brother. While he lived in one of the wards of Tokyo, Ryoma was staying in a ward of Nagoya, and it was only half an hour before noon when he actually arrived. He found a nearby convenience store, grabbed some rice balls, and hurried on to the memorial garden where his brother was buried.

_It's a really nice day, isn't it Ryoma?_ The gates were swung wide open, a welcoming sight, coming from a graveyard, though it probably wasn't a good thing, especially Ryoshi was _feeling_ welcomed. Despite the fact that spring was long since past, there were still some cherry blossoms that dusted the graves. The occasional breeze stirred them around, but other than that, it seemed to be completely still, as though he had just stepped into a picture. The large, but sparse, trees provided a nice atmosphere; some graves were cast in cool, forgiving shadows, while others were proclaiming their existence and standing tall in the super-heated sunshine. The leaves were all sorts of greens, from the fresh green of new leaves, to the darker tones of the leaves that were providing shadows.

Despite the number of grave markers in the cemetery, there was no sense of being crowded, and it provided to the relaxed air that this area of Nagoya was cherished for. It was one of the main reasons that his family had chosen to lay Ryoma to rest here as opposed to nearer the family home.

As Ryoshi started heading towards the back of the plots, the feeling of sparseness increased. Back here, the dates and graves were becoming increasingly ancient, to the point where some of them weren't legible. Standing, in an arrogant manner that defined Ryoma Echizen, was a grave that was decidedly newer. It was a pretentious upstart much like the owner of a grave, and existed in a place it most certainly wasn't supposed to, much like it's owner.

_That's right_, Ryoshi thought with a laugh, because Ryoma wasn't supposed to be a regular in a world of upperclassmen, but since when had his brother followed the standard? Everyone else said he was dead, but that's all he saw when he looked in the mirror every morning.

Ryoshi was close enough that he could read the characters that he had memorized years ago. It was then that he noticed a slight shadow that was standing in front of the grave marker. As one would expect, Ryoma was taking in the sunshine, all on his own, and so the shadow wasn't anything he could miss. It wasn't anything near solid enough to be considered a human being, or even something that was alive, but that didn't deter the boy from continuing on his own journey.

The shadow figure turned to face him, then sighed. "_You don't have to visit me, you know. This place has plenty of people to talk to._" His brother had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his white jeans. He looked super casual as he stared at his twin. He seemed just slightly uncertain about something, though Ryoshi couldn't tell quite what it was.

Ryoshi smile in response, and set the small wooden box he'd been carrying at the foot of the marker. "But I want to. Is there anything with wanting to see my brother every now and again, since we live apart?"

Ryoma's frown deepened. "_I know that I've been encouraging you to be yourself, but if this is the only way, then I'd rather you stop._" His gaze shifted to the area surrounding him and his home. "_You guys really picked a… fantastic place for me to stay, so you shouldn't visit me so often. It's a waste of bus fare, and I would have absolutely no complaint about not seeing you but once a year._"

The younger brother shook his head; the long hair that was draped around his face whipped around, only to settle in a single mass over his left shoulder. "But how will I keep you updated with what's going on with Seigaku? That little bit I carry around with me can only keep you so informed, and I know you like my visits and the letters I'm giving you. Besides," One corner of his mouth lifted in a quirky grin that was completely his own as he stared at the specters he couldn't see but knew were there. "Your neighbors can only know so much about tennis. Maybe you ace your history exams because of that, but is it all really as entertaining as the world beyond that fence? Besides," Here his voice lowered and his eyes, before bright and slightly teasing, softened. They weren't burning a subdued gold now, but were more golden, and warmer. "I like it here. The environment feels so different from anything that we have in Tokyo."

He knelt beside the box and started to remove the letters, weighing them down with rocks, so that that whimsical breeze didn't carry them off. One by one, twenty or so letters were withdrawn from the box, all written in long hand English.

Once again, a breeze passed through, stirring the hair of the only brother who could feel it. The one who couldn't rounded on his brother, ignorant of how it felt like a much needed relief from the over-bearing sun. Ryoshi eyes were closed, taking bliss from the cool breath, his hair trying to follow the wind, wherever whimsy took it. "_That's just it, Ryoshi! You're still breathing, you're still alive! You shouldn't enjoy spending time in a grave, not when you have a life to live!_" Ryoma's "body" had aged with Ryoshi's, for an odd reason unknown to both of them; it had always been a source of wonder for the two when they had met up. Now, it was trembling, as though it wished to return to his childish form. "_Stop it, already! I'm dead; you're not! You shouldn't be living for a dead person. Every second I show up at school, or at home, or anywhere else, you're losing life; don't you get that?! You're losing seconds that you'll never get back. Even you can't be that stupid!_" Despite the fact that he had no material body, Ryoma could almost swear that he was crying, just then. "_If you won't do it for you, then do it for me. For every second that you pretend to be me, the guilt I feel increases. Why are you doing this?_"

It seemed this visit wouldn't turn out any differently than its predecessors had. They would tease each other, about what changed constantly, and then Ryoma would get mad at him for, as he called it, "living for a dead man." Then the spirit of his dead brother would ask that one question, and he, never one to turn down his brother, would always answer. It always ended with answer to that question, and the answer was always the same.

"Because, _onii-san_, it's what I have to do. You have your guilts, and I have mine." Once he had finished gazing at the last of the letters, he withdrew a lighter. The twins had soon found out that Ryoma had a hard time reading them. On accident, one had caught fire – the how was still a mystery – and a copy of it, in the same form as Ryoma's appeared where the ashes had piled up. From then on, they had taken to burning the letters after sorting them out.

They waited in silence as the thin papers were turned to ash. It was only a matter of minutes before the last one had burned. Turning on his sneakered heel, Ryoshi waved to his brother's spirit. "I'll be sure to come again, okay, _onii-san_!"

"_Don't bother, you dunce! Be you for once!_" The insults followed in a similar manner, much longer than should've been possible. Well, he was a ghost. The graveyard was still as empty as it had been on the way in, and Ryoshi's exit went just as unnoticed as it was on the way in.

That is to say, one living, breathing person saw it.

* * *

To be honest, Sengoku Kiyosumi wasn't sure what to make of the strange day he'd been having. He'd decided to take his training up to the next level, and was way more serious than his parents had ever thought him capable of being. His old man had even had the gall to ask where his latest girlfriend was.

That had sent him reeling, and he decided that the day was better spent training his stamina. It had been a standard, boring jog until he had come to midtown, already bustling with people. Somehow, in that crowd, he had picked up a face that he could swear was familiar. On his way opposite of Sengoku was Echizen Ryoma, or at least a person who looked eerily like him. The _only _difference was this kid's hair was long, like girly long almost. In fact, if it weren't for the complete lack of figure - and even _that_ almost wasn't enough – he might've been completely fooled.

It didn't look bad, if Sengoku was being completely honest with himself. The kid's hair had this awesome windblown effect that really worked with his face. It was still that same dark, green-tinted black that Echizen had, and was wearing a hat, similar but not the same as the "R" marked cap; this ball cap had a gothic styled "R" on the left side of his head. It was still fairly early, too early for any normal teenager to be out. And the boy was moving to briefly to be simply out on the town.

A split second decision had Sengoku following the Echizen-doppelganger. Texting his mom that he probably wouldn't be back for a while, he followed the boy onto the subway.

What he endured was several hours' worth of enduring public transportation. Had he not had his passes with him, and all of the coupons he'd won in drawings, he might not have been able to make the trip. As it was, his wallet was definitely lighter than it had been that morning.

In hindsight, Sengoku would wonder if the trip had been worth the entire trip. Not once had he approached the doppelganger, and it became apparent that the whole purpose of this little venture was to visit a gravesite. It was a nice graveyard, to be sure, but it still held that melancholy feeling that came with the location of many people's dead bodies.

That's where it got even stranger, though. When the kid finally stopped at a grave at the back of the plot, he withdrew a box and set it down. The nearest tree was a tad far, and Sengoku wasn't willing to hide behind any person's grave, so he could only see and hear so much about the kid. But from what he could tell, he was talking to something. When he straightened up, Sengoku could see he was focused on something, and there was this strange, lopsided little grin on his face. His mouth moved, and a higher, a soprano-like voice whispered on the breeze. Had he not been able to see that there was for certain that there was no one there, the kid could've been having a conversation.

There were many emotions that flickered over his face over the next few minutes, before, and Sengoku was puzzled as the doppelganger began withdrawing sheets of paper from the little wooden box. Once he seemed satisfied that they wouldn't blow away, he pulled out something that surprised him even more than the papers: a lighter. He went about lighting each sheet aflame, and once all were ash, he rose and departed with a wave.

Sengoku stood there, a few minutes after the strange being had left, just wondering at the stranger things he had done. He finally decided to answer at least one of the questions floating around in his head: whose grave was this?

The answer had him falling back on his ass, and despite the fact that he had landed in the dirt, he couldn't find it in himself to care that he was probably staining his white shorts.

Had he died? Their match had been only a few short weeks ago!

As he fled the graveyard, confusion written in his very being, as well as an overwhelming fear and anguish, the name followed him all the way home, where he holed himself up in his room.

_Echizen Ryoma._

* * *

_Whew, longest chapter yet! I'll try to keep it this long, but…_

_I MAKE NO PROMISES~!_

_Wow two thousand hits and 34 reviews? Not to mention all of those who favorited and alerted this! Thank you for all of your support and feedback!_


	6. Chapter 6

Again, overwhelming support for the last chapter! Seriously, after reading all of your reviews, I can't stop grinning and squealing. My family doesn't know what to do with me anymore.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

"Game and Set, Tezuka, 6 games to 2."

That was it. He was done. Momoshiro Takeshi had been removed from the regulars. For first time, no less.

He moved as if in a dream. He understood why he lost, but that didn't make it any easier to bear.

Around him, he vaguely heard his _sempai_ and classmates talking about how it had happened to most of them before, and how he shouldn't feel to bad. But the only things he was truly aware of were things he didn't want to see just then. He probably wouldn't want to ever see them again, least of all in this state.

He was handing in his regular jersey. Why was he doing that? Oh, right…

That stupid snake was staring at him, much like he always did. But Momoshiro could just imagine him hissing silently in laughter. He must've thought him so pathetic for actually losing his spot.

And Echizen. Man, he'd always thought his eyes were sharp, but right now, they were down right _fierce_. In them, those big hazel orbs, Momoshiro could see his failure, and his defeat. As he left the court – how could he expect to play them without his jersey? – the last thing he saw was the freshman wonder.

No way was Sengoku telling the truth. There was no copying those eyes.

_A bright, semi-familiar head of orange hair approached him; he could see it out of the corner of his eye. It was a lovely Sunday afternoon, and Momoshiro had been enjoying the ice cream on his day off. _

_ It took him a second, but… "Sengoku_-san_? What are you doing here?"_

_ When he raised his head, Momoshiro found he'd been wrong to assume that he was huffing. It seemed that the normally happy-go-lucky player was sobbing. His eyes were bright with tears, and his cheeks were red, not from exertion, but from something else entirely. His quaking shoulders were there, to complete the set. _

_ The third year laid a hand on his shoulder, then, and drew him into a hug. As Momoshiro indulged in the complete confusion that had overwhelmed him, he noticed that a bunch of people were now staring at them. He, completely embarrassed, hurried to push the older teen off of him. "What happened, man? Did your puppy die?" Fearing another hug, he sat the redhead on the bench beside him, and people started going back to their business. A couple of kids were still staring and pointing at them._

_ His statement prompted more stifled sobs from the ginger. "You p-poor kid. *_Sniffle* _Y-you must be in denial. I-I'm just… so _**sorry**_ for your loss, and for the loss of your team, and your school." His puffy, blue eyes lifted to his, and Momoshiro felt some kind of horror growing._

_ He almost didn't want to ask. "Wha-what are you talking about, Sengoku_-san_?"_

_ "Echizen's dead, and I know how close you were to him. You must be so torn!"_

_ …_

_ …_

_ …_

_ What? _

_ What did he just say?_

_ "I'm sorry, Sengoku_-san_, could you please repeat that?"_

_ It was Sengoku's turn to be confused, though his depression was still the dominant emotion on his face. "Echizen's dead."_

_ His voice was trembling when he answered. "That's what I thought you said. H-how did it happen?"_

_ The confusion was increasing. "I don't know. You don't?" His eyes lit up in realization. "You guys haven't been told yet, have you?"_

_ Horrified didn't even begin to cover what Momoshiro was feeling at that point. How could their little freshman have left them? Even if he had just left the country, it wouldn't have been nearly as bad. They still could've seen each other and talked. But, he wasn't any sort of psychic; he couldn't talk to the dead. Was Echizen already gone, far beyond all of them?_

"I saw his grave."

He'd gone to practice the next day, the start of the inter-ranking matches, and had been promptly removed from the regulars. All because he hadn't been able to focus on the game at hand. It was only after he'd lost the deciding match that he saw the freshman, alive and well.

Sengoku-_san_ hadn't been _lying_ to him, had he?

Big eyes watched as the second-year walked off. "Ne, Oishi, where's Momo going?"

His doubles partner turned after the acrobat's gaze. "He's probably having a hard time dealing with being off the regular's team, Eiji. He's never been removed before. I think we should let him sort this out on his own." He wouldn't want to talk to them right now, anyways.

"But Oishi~!"

"No, Eiji." Oishi grabbed his arm as the acrobat ignored his second warning.

Kikumaru looked after the disappearing teen, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. But wouldn't it be worse if he's just left alone? Maybe they could just keep an eye on him? Where was Kaidoh when you needed him?

It was the day of the match against Hyotei, and the _fuku-buchou_ was nowhere to be seen. The entire team could feel the anxiety that was wracking the regular line-up. Only the ever stoics, Inui, Tezuka_-buchou_, and their freshman regular, Echizen, were, well, stoic. And Fuji, of course, but he's ever-smiling, not ever-stoic.

It was when their runner, Momoshiro returned, wearing Oishi's jersey, that they realized what had happened.

"It seems Oishi shall not be playing. I'll be altering the list to accommodate that. Momoshiro, you'll be playing doubles 2 with Kikumaru." It was when he was announced that he'd be playing that everyone breathed a sigh of relief; Momoshiro's depression had finally lifted, and he'd been back to his usual self in no time at all. They would be alright.

As they stared across the bleachers to the opposing team, Tezuka found that they'd need every player they could get. Tezuka had a feeling – of which its predecessors had usually been right - that even their substitute would get a chance to play.

_Echizen, become the pillar that supports Seigaku!_

It had been both emotionally draining and exciting to sit and watch as his_ sempai-tachi_ waged war against one of the favorites of the tournament. The court was only barely enduring as their sweat and blood fell to its face.

First on Seigaku's list of battles had been Kikumaru and Momoshiro versus Hyotei's Oshitari and Mukahi pair. It had been hard to watch their duo struggle, as the acrobat was struggling with a rival gymnast and an inexperienced doubles partner. Momo for his part, really seemed to be trying, and it seemed to be enough. They managed to pull a win.

Echizen found himself hoping for their success, during the time when it had been uncertain, even as he stung at being stuck as the back burner for this match. A part of him was telling him it was fair, but the majority of him felt frustration at not being allowed to play. He suspected it had something to do with how Momo-_chan-sempai_ had been subtly avoiding him since the interschool ranking matches. The no-longer-sore _sempai's_ happiness was probably more important right then, though he didn't completely understand it.

Next on the list of anticipated plays was a new doubles pair, Inui and Kaidoh. Though they were new, they knew each others' styles well enough that they made an impressive team. As the duo entered the court, many club members muttered about how they had been discussing a lot as of late. There were several exclamations of realization as the teens put two and two together.

However, the same and more could be said about the duo they were confronting. Rumor had it that the younger of them had helped the other regain his regular spot, in spite of rule that was observed within the opposing team's club. As the game got under way, it began to show whose teamwork was of a higher caliber, as Hyotei dominated over Seigaku.

But it was an uneven and somewhat handicapped game, seeming two-against-one, as Kaidoh was taking all shots from the other side. To everyone observing the two, it looked as though Inui was just standing there, observing right along with the rest of them. What a horrible_ sempai_, some thought, that he would make his _kouhai_ do all the work.

It soon became obvious, to the doubters and the believers and everyone else that was neither, what the two of them were doing. Kaidoh had been picking up Inui's slack so that the latter may gather his precious data on their opponents. It really kicked into full gear, and when the positions switched, with Inui taking all the shots, and Seigaku dominating Hyotei, and suddenly all the cheering was coming from the other side of the court.

To the unsettling turmoil within Ryoshi, the result was a severe disappointment, especially after the comeback that they had made. Inui had taken too long gathering his data, and they were too much of individual players to work efficiently as a doubles team against a pair that rivaled the Golden Pair's cooperation.

At least, they were now. There was that single spark of potential that led both to think that they would become something great in the future. Both made a note to watch out for them in the future.

As the break between the singles and doubles matches continued, the twins couldn't help but sit at the edge of their seat as the match continued. It was thrilling, and though Ryoshi wished that Seigaku would continue beyond Hyotei, Ryoma found himself unsure of just how it all was gonna end.

It was something neither could wait to see the end of.

It would be something worth waiting for.

_The continuation will be in the next chapter. And don't worry, all grammar mistakes that you read here were intentional. Sorry, I haven't watched rthis for over a year. I don't remember the score between Tezuka and Momo._

_So I have an idea for another fic (that I promise I won't start writing until this one is finished.) It's a HP fic that expands on the Hollows line, since I didn't like how suddenly they became a main plotline in the series. There's a poll for something, and the details are on my account. If you don't mind, would you check it out?_


	7. Chapter 7

As of the Last chapter, I marked in at 50k+ words on this account, and this story topped 10k+. Thank you so much for all of your continued support. I feel like I have improved greatly simply because of all of your feedback.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. That belongs to a lot of other people I don't know.

After the short break had ended, the singles battles began.

The battle between Kawamura and Kabaji had everyone biting their nails. "This is intense…" "Man, that's one power struggle I don't want to watch!" "Who's gonna win?" The entire crowd was riled up, and the match was, thus far, the most uncertain.

Even from the get-go, the crowd had anticipated a good game. A power struggle of this caliber was probably a rare occurrence in the game, as most of the talented players preferred quick and confusing tricks as opposed to pure power. But as this was the forte of the current match, the viewers were fully indulging in the battle of wills below.

_For all those players who couldn't play in this tournament…_

And a battle it certainly was. The weight of this match threw itself around the clock, and dragged all observers with it. Every point seemed like a game, and the games themselves dragged on and on. But none were paying attention to their watches. Their eyes were glued to the stage.

_ For all those people who had to retire and forfeit their chance to prove themselves…_

Those who stood at the edge of the courts could feel the fire that seemed to burn from the eyes of Seigaku's player. It didn't take his over exaggerated gestures to show that. Simply the way he'd lifted that flag had inspired many, one way or another.

Hyotei, for their part, were beginning to respect the powerful senior even as they wished for his defeat. He was managing to keep pace with their own power player.

Silly as he may have been.

_I won't give up!_

When the match was finally over, none could say they had been expecting the ending. Then again, none would argue that it was a bad way to end such a power struggle, either. This game, bittersweet and hard fought, had been wagered on the participants sweat, tears, will and blood.

"That guy…" Oshitari muttered. "He used the fact that Kabaji copies his opponents moves on purpose… He dared to challenge with the dangerous, one-handed Hadoukyuu?" Murmurs of awe were resounding about the place.

"To see whose hand would last till the end…"

"It was a do or die gamble." "Seems so."

One voice on Hyotei found objection with it. "How unfair! He tricked us, huh, bastard!" Mukahi found it absurd that they had thrown a match because of some dirty deceit.

"But would you be able to do that?" Shishido was quick to defend him. Maybe he was the first, but he'd seen Kawamura's right hand. "To sacrifice your hand like that…"

"Taka-_san_!" "Kawamura-_sempai_!"

"He's something, eh?" Echizen could feel his eyes glowing.

"If that monster says he can't play anymore…"

"Does that mean it's Seigaku's win?"

"Nope, he's at his limit too." At that moment, the racket fell from Kawamura's also bloodied hand.

"Since neither side can continue this match, Singles 3 is considered a no-game."

"Sorry, everyone, that I couldn't win. I'll leave it up to you guys." The frumpy coach walked over. "Sorry, Ryuuzaki-_sensei_."

"Idiot." Suddenly, Kawamura's head was stinging, and his hand felt as though it was burning hotter than it ever had before. "Someone go cool off Kawamura's hand!"

"Hey, Taka-_san_? Is it alright if I use this racket?" The team turned to stare, right into the blue eyes of their Singles 2 player.

In spite of the tie, Hyotei's cheering squad was still going strong. "Hyotei, Hyotei, Hyotei!" Seigaku had to spare a glance for the sheer number of supporters.

After that last match, everyone was waiting for the next great fight. It had to getter from he-

"AH! This guy's sleeping again."

It had to get better, that is, if both players were actually on the field.

"… It's still would be better if we got you to the hospital. Hmm…" She glanced over at the other team. "Hey, can we take Kabaji to the hospital, too?"

"…Thank you, Ryuuzaki-_sensei_." Hyotei's coach stood and allowed his player to be taken. When the issue of bench coach came up, Echizen felt it was time that he took his first serve for the match.

He plopped down onto the bench. It was with much refusal and much stubbornness that allowed him to continue sitting there. Echizen shrugged it off. Now was the time to observe. And he needed the best seat he could get.

As both players prepared for the start, they had to wonder how this next match was gonna go. Despite Fuji's reputation and apparent talent, his opponent was one who'd beaten his little brother in less than fifteen minutes. Certainly no record to shake a finger at.

"'_Just have to play with everything you've got,'_ huh?"

He decided that now wasn't a bad time to reveal one of his more complicated tricks. Spinning the ball as he dropped it, his racket swung in a wide arc to drive the ball over the fence. "That shot," he found himself murmuring, "is going disappear."

And it did. The shot, formerly whizzing straightforward, took on a sudden, erratic pattern that even Kikumaru couldn't follow. As such, Akutagawa swung, missed, and looked like a fool doing it.

"Did it disappear?"

That's pretty much how that particular game went. Fuji served the ball, and Akutagawa failed to hit it. His attitude did change, though. He seemed more enthusiastic. Seigaku wasn't quite sure what to make of it and Hyotei's relaxed postures.

When it came time to change, however, the idiot neglected to move. He probably hadn't heard the call. Seigaku's opinion's of him varied, but all were pretty confused. What kind of person was this guy?

"Hey, Echizen."

"What is it?"

"Do you have a good view over there?"

In answer, he tunneled his eyes, and followed his teammate as he walked.

The next game, Fuji took the offensive. He was targeting the feet of the volley player. The shots weren't as successful as one would've hoped, though. Instead, he was actually returning them as drop volleys, ones that Fuji hadn't been prepared to return.

It was with this return volleying that got Hyotei their first game of the match. "Yay! I got him!" His childish joy was a little hard to be angry at. "I kept my service game!"

"Wow, someone's playing evenly with Fuji Syuusuke!"  
"No way! Are you sure?"

"Yeah, they're tied one all!"

It was back to Fuji's service game. He opted to go with his regular serves, and began toying with the excitable senior. He gave the teen no opportunity to approach the net, and shot deep to keep him tethered to the baseline.

Naturally, the audience was quick to recognize the tactic. For Seigaku, it meant victory, and for Hyotei, a chance of defeat. The game fell in Fuji's favor.

"Change court."

"Whew! It's hot!"

Echizen handed Fuji his water canteen, which he accepted with a nod and spoken words.

Immediately after he'd served the ball, Akutagawa dashed for the net. He was almost on the balls' tail. A quick exchange of hits gave the server the opportunity to smash the ball. A mistake that he was unaware he was about to make.

"Fuji's strength isn't this low." Tezuka stated, not loudly, but enough to be heard by his companions.

"Ah! Here it comes! _Higuma Otoshi!_" And the ball dropped onto the court, far behind the volley player.

"From that position, he hit a shot like that…"

"Hey, Echizen, you know the _Tsubame Gaeshi_ and the _Higuma Otoshi, _right?" The freshman gazed up at him. "I figured it's time I showed you the last Triple Counter. _Hakugei_."

"_Hakugei_?"

"That means 'white whale,' right?"

"Obviously. There aren't any black whales." It took Momoshiro a beat to respond to the subtle jab.

"What did you say?" Inui gave a gasp of realization.

"_Hakugei_… I see…" His notebook was open, and he appeared to be absorbed in it.

"Inui, do you know what it is?" Oishi peered at his neighbor. If anyone knew what it was, the data master would.

"Nope, I just thought that it was a cool name."

The wind blew in an ominous manner.

"Fuji-_sempai_ just announced a triple counter." Horio could only guess at what it was.

"I wonder what it looks like."

"Yeah. A swallow, and then a bear, now a whale… It feels like it's gonna be an awesome shot."

"Well, then, will you observe it?" Fuji hoped sincerely that Echizen would pay very close attention to this last shot of his.

The freshman simply smirked up at him. "Please." It was that smirk that prompted Fuji to keep up this pace. _I have to put some distance between us. You catch up really fast._ The wind only seemed to howl and hoot at his thoughts.

The whole time, Akutagawa was content to simply stare at him, thinking about how impressive it was that someone their age was this powerful. The possibilities and implications were maddening and thrilling, all at once. But this time…

"I'm definitely going to keep my service game!"

"He doesn't quit, does he?"

Inoue frowned slightly. "That… he reached the net quicker than before." Inui had noticed, and noted aloud how his slice serve allowed him to move to the net faster. Things were suddenly on looking down for Fuji, despite his reputation.

"I don't know what type of shot _Hakugei_ is, but can he use it in this situation?"

"It couldn't be a lie, could it?"

The net rally had continued, when suddenly, Fuji made a mistake.

"Yes! A weak return!" Even as he finished that statement, the ball shot up, just in front of Akutagawa's face. One of the freshmen trio called it 'hopping.' But that wasn't all. It landed, much like Oishi's moon volley, exactly on the line, with a precision that could have sliced a leaf in half. Then, to the _further_ horror and awe of the crowd, bounced_ back_ so that if Atobe hadn't warned him, Akutagawa may have been injured. It finally came to rest in Fuji's hand.

Pitiful and amusing though it was, the audience seemed to have run out of adequate terms to define what they were witnessing. In layman's terms, they were shocked speechless. Some felt themselves sighing at the redundant praises that were spewing forth.

"Inui… What just happened?" The entirety of Seigaku turned to the resident data master.

"The ball was probably hit with a super backhand slice, causing it to 'hop.' It rose like a lob, and landed straight down." Inui paused to adjust his glasses. "Unbelievably, when the ball bounced, the super backspin caused the ball to return to its original court."

They gaped in shock. "He used the wind that was blowing in his face to return the ball to him."

Kikumaru's brow furrowed. "You mean this paltry breeze?"

"Who would've thought he could do that?" Seigaku's roars of approval suddenly rose from their side.

Even while all this was happening, Akutagawa was still staring at his opponent in shock. But the game had to go on, and so it did.

Echizen was watching his _sempai_ with sharp eyes, and followed his motions with careful thoughts. _Is this what it means for a prodigy to be serious? _An opponent that moved him so that he could do nothing else?

"Hey, Echizen." The bench coach turned around. "You told me to set my sights higher, but my goal is atill my brother, after all!"

He turned before allowing the smirk to show on his face. "Hmm? That's fine. Whatever."

"Game and Match, Seigaku's Fuji six games to one."

_Taka-_san, Fuji thought to the wind. _I did it._

Relief was spreading through the Seigaku crowd. They had only to win one more game before they were through to the quarterfinals.

Fuji smiled to Echizen, then gazed to his brother, who looked ready to stalk off at any time. The younger Fuji took a second to smile to himself.

On the other side of the bleachers, disbelief was ringing in everybody's ears. How could anyone be so ridiculously strong? Even one of their best couldn't do anything.

"Even Jirou has to feel down after being beaten this badly." _Famous last words,_ Atobe thought dryly. The fool was probably excited about his defeat. Akutagawa was actually gushing about all the cool moves that led to his embarrassing failure. Even the ever-smiling prodigy himself wasn't sure what to think of him.

Mukahi felt his eye twitching. "He's… not down at all…"

"Yeah." A snort was all that really needed to be said, but Shishido went on anyways. "He doesn't really know the meaning of the word."

"Seriously, though. I want to play you again." Akutagawa had a severe look on his face, as though he was worried about being refused.

"Sure thing. But I don't want to taste that Magic Volley again."

"It's not like you let me hit it after that! By the way, is there anyone stronger than you?" The question was deceivingly complicated, but in an instant, Fuji's head had snapped to his captain. Akutagawa nodded in appreciation.

"Your captain, huh? I see. But Tezuka's on a different level."

"Yes, that's true. But there may be one other. " The blue gaze shifted over to the captain of the opposing team.

"Echizen." The freshman's eyes were drawn to his captain. "Get your racket."

Ryoma felt surprise rip through him. "Okay."

Fuji's eyes followed them as they left the fenced area, and memory of a match not too long ago surged up. It was of the time when he'd confronted Tezuka on the enigma of Echizen.

Oishi's phone rang, and he steped aside to answer it. "Oishi, how did Fuji do?" It was Ryuuzaki_-sensei_.

"He won, ma'am. The team is starting to relax."

Her harsh voice answered him. "No, even if we're up 2-1, we can't afford to slack off. The next opponent is Atobe-_kun_." Oishi nodded thoughtfully.

"How are the two on your end?"

"Oh, Kawamura and Kabaji_-kun_ are alright. They'll be fine after they rest a little. What's Tezuka doing?... I see. I'll return as soon as I can." The line was cut, and the phone returned to its resting place.

She understood Tezuka's, as well as everyone else's fascination, of their gifted freshman. But to go so far as to put himself at risk…? Ryuuzaki thought that Tezuka had better sense than that. _I wonder if he's really okay…_

SO tired. Ugh. I almost didn't write this one. I'm back into a school-like function, an all-day, band-intensive week. Not only is it all day, but I'm trying out jazz-style music and duets/trios for the first time ever. It's been really fun, and a great experience, but I'm completely exhausted. Guess what? I'm playing at least eleven pieces, which is all for the bands and symphony, and that's with some music that I haven't even gotten yet. And the concert is Thursday/Friday. Talk about pressure!

Sorry for ranting. Just felt that I needed to excuse the probable lack of quality and late update. Hopefully the length makes up for it a bit. Maybe I'll touch it up later. Meh. Last part of Hyotei vs. Seigaku will be updated before Monday, and then we'll be back on schedule. Hopefully.


	8. Chapter 8

Again, the support I get is overwhelming! Thanks for always supporting me. And yay! Last of the chapters that I need to quote stuff from!

Disclaimer: I've killed off the main character. Something about that should tell you that I'm not the owner of Prince of Tennis.

The crowds were finding it especially hard to relax. They had seen one great game after another, and it was all coming down to a long-awaited match: the one between the captains. Rarely was there ever such a match between two captains, much less ones of such great celebrity. Many would argue that it was better suited for the finals of the tournament.

Tezuka had returned from wherever he'd gone, Echizen in tow. Tezuka Kunimitsu, the Captain of Seshun Gakuen's Tennis Club. Play-style: All-Rounder. He has a perfect record in both official and practice matches. For some reason, he refused an invitation to the All-Star Junior Camp. But he still possesses a talent that high school tennis clubs have their eye on. IF he won this match, Hyotei would be left in the dust, and Seigaku would advance with a 3-1 game record for this meeting.

From across the way, anyone could wirtness how his opponent was glaring at him. Atobe Keigo, Captain of the Hyotei Gakuen Tennis Club. Play-style: All-rounder. He participated in the Junior Senbatsu Training Camp. He is the man that stands atop the 200-member Hyotei Tennis Club. His victory would mean a tie for both sides, with the decision being left up to a match between the reserve players. While their hopes of victory were slimmer with the less-than-favorable scores, the members of Hyotei were still holding out for a victory against Seigaku.

Both players were on the field, wielding their rackets as though they were swords. Ryoma could see the fire practically exploding between them. And he probably had one of the best seats in the house, if all he wanted to do was watch it smolder.

_But you've been allowed here so that you may learn, Onii-_san_. It'll be from the absolute best this time around, so don't forget to pay attention!_ Ryoshi was going to learn as much from them as he possibly could. His own tennis was still grossly underdeveloped, and maybe these two captains could give him a tip or two. Just maybe.

His brother was silent. And then the cheers started. _I hoped he practiced his tennis moiré than he did those cheers._

_Onni-_san_!_

_ What? It's true. They seem pretty well practiced. _

"Is that enough?" They heard Tezuka muttered.

"Yeah," Atobe's fist bumped his opponents. "I'm satisfied."

Off in the distance, a few players from one of the top teams was scoping out the possible competition. "This isn't even the Nationals…" The younger of the duo said. "What is with this ambiance and cheering, Vice-Captain Sanada?"

Sanada sighed. Why did he foresee a headache within the next hour? "Still the same old Atobe." As though that should answer his question… _Why_ is it the same old Atobe?

Another group of opponents were overseeing the match. "This match is a must-see. Research, Research, Taichi-kun." And if he saw the freshman on the bench several levels below, he didn't say a thing or look at him twice. Not Sengoku.

"Yes, I'm going to do it!"

"All right, let's see who's stronger..."

"Jeez, that guy sure is flashy." Eyes over-shadowed by a uni-brow peered up into blinding glasses. "Inui-_sempai_, is this guy really that good?"

The data master simply adjusted his infuriating lens. "You'll understand when you see him play."

"The Singles one game between Seishun Gakuen and Hyotei Gakuen will now begin. One-set match, Hyotei's Atobe to serve." Both players were tense at the base-line, one waiting for the shot itself, and the other waiting for Tezuka's reaction.

"It seems this is our first meeting." Tezuka said suddenly; Atobe allowed himself a moment of shock at the abrupt statement.

"Huh?" He shot back. "Weren't you a voiding me?" The green ball was in the air a spilt second after. "Here goes!"

AS expected, the other Captain responded to the shot immediately. Of course, Atobe had never been one to back down. So the ball was exchanged, a rally forming under the circumstances. A trade of drop-shots ended it quickly enough, though, with the smashed point falling in Hyotei's favor.

Hyotei's captain kept his snort to himself. It wasn't something he felt the need to often, but he had this overwhelming desire to do it now. The only reason he'd gotten that point was luck. Luck that Tezuka hadn't been expecting such a powerful smash. HE probably wouldn't be able to catch him with the same trick twice.

The Seigaku said was silent in astonishment. The captain's racket had actually been forced out of his hand? And naturally that showoff from Hyotei would feel fit to rub it in. "Be awed at my prowess." The simple declaration prompted an eruption of cheer from his team.

"Now, if only he didn't do that." "People don't usually say it to themselves… Look at my beautiful move." It was at that moment that Taichi chose to interrupt. "Wasn't it 'be awed by my prowess'?"

Yanagisawa felt a twitch in his left brow. "Yuuta, maybe you should try to be cocky like that dane."

"I'll… pass."

The other Fuji drew the pair's attention. "That ball, it was pretty heavy."

Back on the court… "What's wrong, Tezuka? You're not as fast as you once were."

"Nice drive volley." Was the retort.

"Why, thank you… Here comes the next one!" Blows were exchanged, with Atobe running all over the court. Oddly enough, though, Tezuka didn't seem to be moving much. In fact, he seemed to be simply pivoting on one foot. Despite all those shots being on far opposite corners of the court, Atobe seemed to be having no issues with returning them. It attested to the level of skill that both players were displaying.

Top-class middle-schoolers at their best, Sengoku was saying. And… "Your luck will run away from you if you speak bad behind others backs." His eyes turned grave as they returned to the match_. _"But, in all honesty, his insights into his opponents weaknesses is frightening."

"Insight?" Poor, clueless Taichi…

"Basically, your eyesight." One _sempai _input.

"The power of your eyes." Another added, gesturing towards his own eyes.

"Eyes!"

The freshman's big eyes returned to the players. "To see… weakness…"

"I don't like it."  
"Eh? Did you say something, Inui-_sempai_?"

The ball came into contact with the top of the net, then proceeded to fall to Hyotei's side. "Now's your chance, Tezuka-_buchou_!" However, Atobe was quick to rush the net; he managed to return it. The lion had been waiting for it, though. Tezuka rose just above the net, just in time to smash the ball down, so fast that Atobe had no time to react.

At least, that's what Seigaku had hoped. Some chance of fate gave Atobe the chance to actually catch the ball. And just like that, another rally had begun.

It seemed as though the switching was all falling Hyotei's favor, that Seigaku was actually being pushed back.

It was about this time that the audience began to catch on to Tezukaa's secret plannings; the same time that Atobe did. The captain hadn't moved from the baseline where he started the point after he'd returned from the net. It was as though his feet were glued to that very spot.

Seigaku had dubbed it "Tezuka Zone." All balls with a spin would return to Tezuka.

"Fifteen all."

"No way, you mean he can just stand there and hit it?"

But Atobe was laughing now, meaning that he'd found_ something. _"Pretty good, aren't you, Tezuka… With that arm of yours…"

The theatre hushed, and then the audience was up in flames, chatting about the possible implications. Atobe decided he'd stewed them enough, though it had only been a few seconds. "That left arm of yours… It's hurting, isn't it? Right, Tezuka?"

* * *

Again, sorry for the late update. Alaska fever and the end of summer has me running around. I'm also cutting it here. As much as I don't want to drag this out, these chapters are getting too long. I need to keep them a length I can manage, or I'll keep pushing myself harder. Sorry, and thanks for reading.


	9. Chapter 9

The support is astounding! If you know where to look, check the stats! My goodness~!

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. Proof: I'm writing on this website.

"That left arm of yours… It's hurting, isn't it?" Some of the members of the audience, particularly those from Seigaku, found that they despised his grin.

Oishi was shouting from the sidelines; he looked ready to jump the barriers and interrogate his captain. . "No way! Tezuka's elbow has completely healed!" The regulars snapped their gaze to the wayward hen. What did he mean, already healed?

Atobe grinned. So it was the elbow, was it?

The regulars were rounding on the Vice-captain. "Is it true, Oishi-_senpai_?" Oishi, for his part, was finding it hard to resist the innumerable wide eyes that were being turned his way.

"Sorry. Tezuka's elbow was hurting until recently." His gaze returned to the captain, who was, literally, taking one for the team, simply so that they could continue to Nationals. "He told me not to tell anyone."

Echizen felt a sense of horror overcome him. If he'd been injured when they'd played, did that mean he was even stronger now? Ryoma felt his anticipation of their next match grow. When would it be his turn to play?

Ryoshi simply frowned at the idea.

Leave it to one of those guileless freshmen to ask the million dollar question. "B-but, how did the captain injure his elbow?"

Oishi recounted the tale aloud as he remembered it. Two years ago, when some upperclassmen pride got in the way of their common sense, and by proxy, their sense as human beings, Tezuka had silently suffered their abuse.

"Right when we entered Junior High…"

Another glance at the captain reminded Oishi of the numerous times that he had shown that same face, one that was full to the brim of his passion for the sport and his determination to succeed in at it. Back in their first year, his eyes had been wide and his size not as formidable when compared to the present, but he'd always had that same, polished gleam to his shots, the skill that undeniably made him the envy of many other players.

Even back then, he'd been consistently victorious against the upperclassmen, towering over them with impressive figures. Oishi had feared, and rightfully too, that there may be some retaliation from the upper levels at the freshman who'd humiliated them.

Even as he'd brought it up, those eyes had been planning, nearly scheming, if you will. He didn't seem to dismiss the threat of the seniors, but inherently he'd had bigger plans, and declared his ambition: that Seigaku would be led by them, straight on through Nationals. The smile he'd gotten afterwards had assured him, and he'd gone along with it.

Despite his care, once some of the upperclassmen had found out that he'd been handicapping themselves, they'd been infuriated, and worse, they'd done something about it. Misunderstanding it, the _senpai_ had lashed out and delivered a dangerous blow to his arm before the others could stop him.

It seemed that that was what it took to rile the boy up. If nothing else, Tezuka loved the sport. He respected all players above and below him, if they were honest players. He'd declared, after chewing out all that could hear him, that if the club really was this petty, then he was done.

"What? You're saying that's how he injured his elbow?"

"Yeah, and it wasn't such a big problem at first… But it became apparent that it was, in fact, a big deal, in the all of last year." Oishi sighed. "With his daily, hard training and the zero-shiki shot, combined with that hit from the racket, it became apparent that the state of his arm was deteriorating. Combined, it was putting a severe stain on his elbow muscles.

"It nearly got to the point where he couldn't play tennis anymore…"

Kikumaru nodded in understanding. "So that was why he rejected that invitation last year."

Momoshiro quickly snapped together a picture for the rest, since Echizen hadn't been willing to share. The little twerp even turned around to glare at him! "So you're saying that the captain we've been playing was…"

"But it's all healed now, isn't it?"

"Echizen's right. It healed completely about two months ago. Even the doctor okayed it." It was cause enough that sighs of relief were abound. "There's no way it's not… healed… maybe…"

"Hold it, Oishi… Atobe must be bluffing!" "Yeah, you're worrying too much."

Kikumaru winked conspiritorily at Momoshiro. "On another note, young Tezuka sure resembles someone!" The freshman's senses must have been tingling; the bench coach turned to glare at the duo.

"SO, did Tezuka-_buchou_ actually quit?" Horio put in the comment that if he had, he wouldn't be here now.

"Well, Tezuka was pretty serious at the time."

"Then, why?"

Oishi thought back to how he'd pleaded with his friend even as his friend prepared to leave. Just in time, the captain, Yamato Yudai, halted the departing freshman. "And what are we fussing about?" The sage captain glanced around his team. "Looks like it'll be a hundred laps. Everyone's n this." Maybe he was a sadist? "Alright everyone, if you don't run fast enough, it's going to get dark.

It was then that young Tezuka had told him of his decision. "Although it was short, thank you for your time in this club." As he was walking away, the captain snatched his shirt. "Wait. You're a member too. Let's run the laps together."

Tezuka gave him a look. "I'm quitting." _As I just told you. _

It appeared the captain hadn't gotten the memo. "Oh, is that so… What a pity…" He immediately perked right up. "But I still haven't received your resignation form. So go run those laps and I'll take your form after that."

"It was because of those efforts that he never actually succeeded in leaving the club." _Though I suspect his own ambition was part of the keeper._ What Oishi didn't know was that his petty words had helped Tezuka out a lot more then he probably thought they did.

As the match drew on, it became painfully obvious just how evenly matched the two players were. However, after they changed courts next, something went wrong.

It was Seigaku's service game. And it seemed that the opposing side was pulling out all the stops. "He hasn't used it yet, has he?"

"What?"

Sanada glared into the light, as though all of his efforts would grant him access to the mind of Hyotei's captain. "The Rondo Towards Destruction, hn?"

It seemed that Tezuka was either curious or naïve, or both. A lob from his side was shot up into the air. "Here it comes, Renji. The Rondo towards Destruction."

To those who were there to simply analyse the game, it was a beautiful, if underhanded, strategy. It targeted the grip on the Racket, knocking it out of the unfortunate player's hand. Then, as the ball returned to the smasher, it was then smashed a second time, while the opponent hadn't had the time to recover and respond.

Not only that, it was effective. Only those with monstrously strong grips would be able to survive the smash; all lesser players were left to toil and suffer.

However, it seemed they were all being bluff out, as Atobe returned it normally and the rally continued. Relief seemed to spread throughout Seigaku, but it was very short-lived. Likewise, Hyotei seemed to be lacking comprehension; why didn't he smash it?

Fuji tensed. "This match is going to be bad."  
"You think so too, Fuji?"

"Your elbow has completely healed, right, Tezuka?"

Ryoma was elated in amuted way that he was the first to notice what was going on. He also seemed to be the first to catch on to Atobe's wording. Meanwhile, the captain was praisng Seigaku's captain's skills, even as he led him to his painful downfall.

"It seems your elbow has healed, but what about your shoulder?" His next return blew the racket from his opponent's hands. "0-15"

If it was the usual, short matches, nothing would happen. But, this long, drawn out spectacle is ruining his arm once more. Can your shoulder withstand this game? I can take you out of tennis forever with an hour's time. I can beat anyone within 30 minutes.

But just winning isn't fun. No, I think you'll be my dance partner for two hours. Along with the destruction of your shoulder!

The game continued to drag on. Not in the same, painful manner as one of the earlier matches, but it was shaping up to be something similar. "Atobe seems to be making the match long on purpose."

"Huh? Why?"

"He wants to destroy Tezuka's arm in the match."

"But didn't the joint heal?" Memories of days spent at his family's clinic brought them their answer.

"Tezuka's elbow has healed, but it will be devastating if he plays all out for a long time."

"So why doesn't he just end the match?"

"You're taking his opponent too lightly. Atobe is also at a national level."

"This is bad."

"Yeah, even Tezuka will show holes if he rushes himself. He won't let it pass."

As the game dragged on, the team's concern for their captain continued to grow. The strain on his body was beginning to affect his playing, though not enough to force him to slip. It seemed though, that his foe was rejoicing in the weakening. It meant he was almost done.

Even Echizen felt a slight strain. Ryoshi feared for Tezuka's safety, and that this wasn't the ideal situation for a victory. Was it really worth it, risking your entire future on this one match?

Everyone, even Atobe, seemed to be picking up on it. Tezuka, despite his handicap, was obviously not backing down. The superiority of the players was astounding, and the sheer level had many sweating from their observational points.

_This guy was _looking _for a long match!_

"It's his will." "Huh?" "His eyes, they're showing me the strength of his will, his determination to pull through this game and prove something. Those are the kind of eyes he had."

"He's an incredible man. He chose winning as Seigaku's captain over his arm."

_Seigaku's supporting pillar. _

_You're going to live up to that name, aren't you, Tezuka?_

"From now, on, this game is a determined on the strength of their minds." "It seems, then, that there is no more point in taking any data."

"Despite the fact that Atobe wanted this from the beginning, the victor is still unclear."

From his spot in the cheap seats, Ryoma smiled. "_Mada Mada Dane."_

_Sorry about this, Atobe, but I'm going to take your guys' place going to Nationals._

Even with the strenuous amount of time spent on this match alone, the pace of either player had yet to slacken. In fact, it seemed that Tezuka was challenging Atobe to beat him, or to lose at his own game.

All of a sudden, the tides turned. The Rondo had finally made its appearance. But it proved ineffective, as Tezuka immediately began countering it. Lowering his racket, he managed to return the two-part smash's initial blow. Not only did he return it, though, he'd set up his Tezuka-zone once more. On top of that, as if the cake could get any sweeter, he finished it up with his ace drop-shot.

"Man, Atobe never had a chance, did he?" All of a sudden, Atobe seemed to be slipping up. He lost the next two points as well. At the match point, it seemed as though Atobe's plan had finally come to fruition.

Tezuka's whole body seemed to seize up, and a fault was called on his serve, even as his racket clattered on the ground. His body… well, it didn't take long for it to follow.

OMG Last update before school starts up! I may change the days I update, simply because of my schedule. We'll have to see. I swear, though, I hate my attention to detail. Even as I try to bring you chapters that 1k+, I feel like I'm overdoing it! Tell me if I am, okay? Hope you guys're happy with the long chapter… IT'S TOO LONG T^T!

Again, I apologize for holding this thing out. Once we're through, I promise this story will shoot back up, but right now, this is an important part for the characters. (Geez, I sound like their mom.) If you can hold out for two more chaoters/ episodes, I will be forever grateful. So long as school doesn't chew me up and spit me out!


	10. Chapter 10

Let's get on with this! As always, thanks for your support!

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. That is based somewhere in Japan, where I haven't been for a long time.

As Seigaku's initial pillar of support sank to his knees, the entire arena froze. It was at this point that people were realizing that yes, he really was injured.

And he'd just sacrificed his arm for a victory.

Those who were getting over their stupor were focusing in on the fallen captain. Those with eyes accomplished enough could see his fine trembling, a hand clutched at his left shoulder. It probably wasn't stemming any sort of flow, but perhaps the pithy comfort was helping him.

"TEZUKA!"

Even after all of those years spent mastering his posture, Ryoshi slipped for once, his surprise flitting onto his face. In this case, it was acceptable, and he could get away with it here, when no one was paying attention to him, but he needed to be careful. Tezuka wasn't as concerned about his shoulder as he seemed to be. Had he been caught…?

"Tezuka!" One…

"Tezuka-_buchou_!" Two…

"Hah, hah…" Three…

"Captain!" Four, Five… Six…

Six…

Six transgressors of the rules of a match. There would be some correcting of match etiquette after they were done here, since his team obviously didn't know how to behave themselves during a match.

"Don't come!" Six pairs of stomping feet came to a halt, three or for yards from their fallen leader, almost surrounding him, though they couldn't actually protect him from what had already long since past. "Turn back. The match hasn't ended yet." And their idol made to stand after his fall, once more.

Suddenly, whispers of retirement among the viewers surged up. How could anyone continue with such a handicap? Too many greats have vanished because they pushed themselves. Surely such a rising star wouldn't follow that deplorable way.

As for the on-field regulars, well, they weren't on field anymore. They'd been chased back to the bleachers. "If the captain retires, then we'll have two wins and two losses. If that's the case, I wonder what'd happen?"

"From what it looks like… It's impossible for him to play Atobe evenly now." The wounded player was making his way towards the side of the court. It was better in the long run if he resigned now. "It's fatal."

"Heh, and the one who should have beat Tezuka-_san_ was me…"

Hyotei was gazing at their captain, for once silent and solemn. Their vibrance had been left to simmer in light of the sudden collapse of the opponent.

"As expected of Atobe… He aimed for that, right?"

Mukahi's response was a nod. "Whatever has happened, the tables have turned."

"But…" The second-year regular was frowning. "Atobe-_buchou_…" His partner, reliable as ever, picked up on what he was saying as he said it.

"Yeah, he… doesn't look the slightest bit happy…"

"Tezuka, it would be dangerous to continue playing. Plus," Here a side gesture attempted to force concern into the stoic faces of his superior. "With your arm's condition, your chance of winning is extremely low."

Almost in defiance, Tezuka began flexing his arm,and sent a glance over to the freshman at his side. The boy had yet to speak or look at him. He had at least been expecting the caustic reprimand that was standard of the younger teen.

"Captain! You're overdoing it!" AS if the second-year had any room to tell him that. HE was the one who went absent for no reason only a short while ago.

A firm hand gripped a lavender racket. "Tezuka, stop!" No such luck. "If you keep on, your arm will seriously…" His words weren't reaching not only his captain, but his friend. Well, they did say actions spoke louder than words.

Before he knew it, his vice-captain was obstructing his path. Though he wasn't trying to speak to him now, his eyes were saying volumes.

"Oishi." Was now really the time to make a scene? They were garnering the attention of the entire court

"Are you going to carry out that promise that you made to captain Yamato? The promise of opening a path for the club to go to the nationals?" The captain said nothing.

Eyes are funny things. If given the chance, they could give anyone a private view into anyone else's innermost world. As it were, an entire conversation was being held between the two authority of Seigaku. Eyes face each other, and they were unaware of every other pair in the area focused on them.

"I don't plan to lose at all."

_I will win this game for sure._

"That's why we will all go to Nationals."

"If we don't give up, then we will find their weakness for sure."

_Believe in our abilities!_

_Taka-san, may I borrow this racket please?_

"Let's do it, Kaidoh."

_I will bet everything on this one shot._

"We are going to Nationals." Internally, Oishi felt relieved. No, not that his friend was going to place himself under further stress, but that his resolve hadn't weakened. He was still the man that had promised to lead them all to Nationals, and he was dead set on doing it. What a selfishly selfless person.

"Then do it!"

"Hey, is Oishi-_fuku-buchou_ seriously gonna let him play?" "Would a mom let her son do something like this?" "Someone call captain's parents!"

"SEIGAKU!" The entire club turned to face the newcomer. Taka-_san_ was back! And he was waving the flag around. Not only did his wrist seem to be okay, but he had this cheeky grin as he gazed down at his team. "VICTORY! Fight, Fight, Se-i-gaku!"

"Kawamura, control yourself! You've just been to the doctors!"

It was at this point that the sleeping beast rose. "Just like how you've won against me, don't lose, okay?"

"I won't." It seemed that that was satisfying for the freshman. He began to walk off the court, much to his teammates confusion. Then it clicked, as he approached their previously absent coach.

"Thank you for being bench coach in my absence." She very nearly glared at the captain, who was being checked over by the referee. "Geez… How come we only have stubborn guys in our club? All who go for the sour of the moment." _But I guess that's the proof of a real player, huh._

The regular walked off. "You flatter me too much."

"Idiot, I wasn't talking about you!"

"Echizen! If you're going to warm-up… I'll go with you."

"Sorry for the wait, Atobe, we'll finish this fight." There was no response, so the game continued.

It was greater than any were expecting. A game where one player should have had a major advantage shouldn't, logically, be so even, but Tezuka was holding his own against his opponent.

"Game to Hyotei's Atobe. Six games to six."

"That Atobe, he caught up, huh?"

"Yeah, now it'll be a tiebreak."

Odds were not in Seigaku's favor, but their stoic captain was holding strong anyways.

"Twelve point tie-break. Hyotei's Atobe to serve." The ball was tossed and struck across the net.

"One-zero. Seigaku's Tezuka leads."

_That guy still…?!_

"A return ace!" "Seigaku FIGHT!" "He's still trying!" "Keep it up, Captain!"

As Tezuka served the ball, there was the slightest of hesitations before it was hit. _As expected, his shoulder is injured, huh?_ "What is this, Tezuka? What's this serve?"

"One all." Hyotei's side erupted in cheer.

"Two – One, Hyotei's Atobe leads."

"It's no use, with serves like that."

"Not able to control a service. That's fatal in a singles game."

"Even though it's a tiebreak, to lose control of serves after two shots."

"If you don't get the point as the receiver, then Tezuka is really at a disadvantage in this tie-break." All of their eyes were focused on the panting players.

"It must be painful, Tezuka. Even though he doesn't show it in his expressions, he's standing there suffering the pain…"

The tie-break continued, dead-even. Neither would give in, and thus made it difficult to pull. "Six-five, Hyotei's Atobe leads."

The king gazed at his opponent. _I misjudged you, Tezuka. _He admitted. _I thought you were calmer and more manipulative. To think that I would see you like this… I didn't expect to see you so determined in a situation like this. To control the game up to this point… Just how many of such players are there out there?_

_Who would've thought… that you had such a reckless side to you? The determination that Tezuka has for Seigaku, I didn't see that. I have been overdoing it in this game, too. That's why I will do my best with each shot. No matter how long this tie-break lasts!_

As Momoshiro and Echizen finished their warming up, the nearby court erupted into cheers. It was a race to get back there in, since it was likely that the match had ended.

It hadn't been anything near what they were anticipating. "Hey, Echizen, look."

On the court, the two were facing each other, throwing brilliant shots at the other side. The game had progressed far beyond what either of them had been hoping for. Their injured captain had taken it to a tie-break?!

"35-34, Seigaku's Tezuka's lead."

"35 all."

"36-35, Hyotei's Atobe's lead."

…

…

… _What the hell _was_ this?_ Who could play a game so uneven so remarkably. It wasn't an easy win for the other team, the one whose captain bore no afflictions. "C-captain."

"I can't believe this! I've… never seen a tie-break this long!"

"Neither wants to give up the two points… This is a serious match. It's no longer about technique anymore, but a battle of the psyche."

_Tezuka, I was wrong about you. I thought you were calm, calculating, even harsh… I never, ever thought I would see you this passionate in a match. _Even now Atobe was struglling to return the other teen's shots. _There aren't many players in the world who can play at this level in this situation. Who would've imagined_ that _we'd be playing in a match like this?_

_I couldn't read past the strong will that Tezuka had of Seigaku winning. This match is, without a doubt, mraningless to me. But I will put everything I have behind every ball I hit. No matter how long this tie-break continues!_

"Tezuka…"

"37-36, Seigaku's Tezuka's lead."

"Tezuka shouldn't be able to lift his shoulder anymore, but…"

It turned out to be too much for the trio. "Then, why don't you stop it?" Little, young hands seized the jersey of his _sempai_ and pulled. "Why do you allow him to go on? Oishi-_sempai_?" He could only continue watching; there wasn't any way he could answer. Not when he was so unsure of the answer himself. All he knew was that this match had to continue of Tezuka's terms.

"It's not just Tezuka." He finally said. "Atobe is reaching his limit, too. These two are using tennis to compete in a battle of wills." The entire court was silent, sans the two playing. Awe was thick in air, only surpassed in amount by the weight of this game. "Haven't you understood by watching those two?" It was with fire that he continued gazing at the two. "_Nobody_ can stop this match." It seemed that that was all it took to calm him.

Onwards it continued. Memories of promises long past continued resurfacing. To win, to make it together, with his club, to Nationals, was why he was still there. The regulars of Seigaku knew it, too.

_There isn't a bit of hesitation in Tezuka's play. _

_It was never about winning or losing. That's Tezuka's strength._

_In reality, no one can play this long with an injured arm like his. _

_His will is the only thing keeping him on the court. _

_He's leading us by example, like it's common sense. _

This_ is our captain. _

This tie-break, it seemed as though it would never end. Ball after ball, stroke after stroke, he labored under the intensity of his arm.

_Tezuka-_kun.

_I want you to become Seigaku's pillar of support. _

Was he really suicidal?

Tezuka was prepared for his famous drop-shot. Atobe, saw it, and sprinted for the net. But even that wasn't enough. Without a split second to think about it, Hyotei's captain threw himself at the ball.

The ball made contact with the ground.

Ryoshi felt himself grow excited for the first time in a while. _He got it!_

The only bounced back after a feeble attempt to roll. _It won't reverse!_

Despite hitting it over the net, Tezuka still managed to hit it, via his second technique, the Tezuka-zone.

Right into the net.

"Game and Match. Hyotei's Atobe seven games to six." The entire park was silent. And on the court, Tezuka actually looked relieved. As though he hadn't just lost the match he'd given himself to.

Two hands met at the net. Atobe simply held his opponent's aloft. "That was the best match, Tezuka."

The crowd suddenly, finally exploded.

_I have to say, this match was always one of my favorites. There are a couple things about it that I don't like, but it's one of the reasons I picked up tennis. Not that I'm any good. Hope you like it, and the next one will continue with original stuff._


	11. Chapter 11

FINALLY! Back to original stuff. It's hard to spin canon stuff in an original way – without taking anything away, mind you – and still add a twist to it. Hopefully I'll be able to motivate myself to touch up the other stuff. Don't worry, there will be no yaoi in here. Its just fun to tease Momo.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis©. Seriously, stop asking me.

Warnings: Arguments, depression, language, and teasing about (non-existent) relationships.

His letter this time around felt rushed, but there was nothing he could do, simply because his father was getting ready to leave, and he just so happened to be heading that way.

_Hey, Ryoma! Our match with Hyotei was amazing, but it took forever! Man, after seeing all of those matches, yours was kind of a disappointment. We won though, so now we're heading on, straight through to Nationals! Hopefully the matches will be even tougher for you! Gotta go, school starts soon!_

_Love,_

_Ryoma._

_P.S The after party was fun! We had sushi at Kawamura-_san's_ shop. There was a little bit of a war over sushi._

It was brief, but that was all he needed. He was already running late, and his dad wasn't going to wait forever.

Once the short note had been sealed and handed to his father, he was out the door and running towards the school.

Momo was just arriving at the changing rooms when his peers crowded him. It seemed Fuji was the bravest; he spoke first. Why was he already regretting what was going on? "Hey, Momo-_chan_… Wh-"

"Why are you avoiding _Ochibi_? You haven't spoken to him since the ranking matches, beyond a few words! Why Momo-_chan_? Is there something wrong? Did you guys have a fight?"

"Eiji…" Of course Eiji would want to batter him with questions. "Maybe we shouldn't ask him about… whatever this is." He'd been fully against interrogating the second-year. For all they knew, this could be something bad, or something they shouldn't have to worry about at all.

"Is it a relationship problem?" Where had Inui come up with such an idea? Momo spluttered, though, so maybe it was a tad closer than what they were expecting. Who would've thought that the two friends' hamburger binges were their version of dates?

"Re-re-_relationship_ problems?!" Had his voice just squeaked? "No, Inui-_sempai_! There's nothing going on between us!"

"Yet." And with that, Inui began scribbling furiously in his notebook. A couple of inexperienced second years tried to peer around the data player, only to have the book slammed shut on them. He then promptly exited the room.

Maybe it was perfect timing, because as he walked out, Kaidoh walked in, already sweaty with perspiration. He paused at the sight of the intimidating cluster, then walked to his section of the room and began changing. "Fshuu…"

"Tell them, viper! Me and Echizen are not dating!" Suddenly, Kaidoh found himself the center of attention. He also felt his cheeks growing warm. Were they really gossiping like girls?

"It wouldn't matter, would it? You act enough like a girl."

…That definitely had been the wrong thing to say.

"What did you say, Viper?!"

"That you're acting like a girl, chatting and gossiping here. What, did you think I was going to compliment your masculinity?"

"OOH, big words from a snake! Or maybe a little viper would be more apt? Say that to my face, asshole!"

"I already did, dumbass!"

But then Kikumaru-_sempai_ was in his face, shaking his head furiously, stopping them before they could begin actually fighting. "No, Kaidoh! We're talking about why Momo-_chan_ seems to be avoiding _Ochibi_ lately. Do you know why?"

Oh, so _that's_ what they're worried about. "No I don't, but it doesn't affect me. Echizen's hopeless with doubles, so they won't be partnered. If they fight, it's their problem, fshuu…" He then proceeded to ignore the rest of them.

Momo almost found himself thanking the bastard. Finally, someone who understood. Of course, it would have been better if it had been someone other than the stupid viper.

Then Fuji-_sempai_ was closing in on him. "So if you aren't dating, what other reason would you have for avoiding each other?"

Of course he wouldn't let this go. That would mean his luck was actually working _with_ him for once. "I- Look, it's nothing that he did, alright? Its me being stupid. I've just got things to work out."

"So long as it doesn't affect your play, then it doesn't matter." He only injured his shoulder yesterday, why was Tezuka-_buchou_ here? He was obviously aware of their looks because he sighed. "I will still be your observing captain, and the hospital has no reason to expect me until tomorrow."

Then his face was stern once more. "Now get out there before I assign extra laps!"

As the order sank in, the sole freshman regular stumbled into the room, oblivious as usual to the tension. He didn't even seem to notice it directed at him.

"Echizen! You're cutting it kind of close aren't you?" Kawamura seemed almost nervous to be facing anyone. His confidence had been shot after his no-game match. When faced with someone who had such an overwhelming victory, he was at a loss of what to do. Fuji was the sole exception, as he regularly obliterated his opponents. Hyotei had simply been no different in this case.

The freshman finally glanced at them. "Sorry, my dad was being himself." He then continued getting dressed as though they wouldn't need more.

"And that is…?"

"A complete and utter idiot." Was his voice seriously flat? How could he say that about his dad, especially HIS dad? He stepped out of the room, oblivious this time to their looks of disbelief.

Oishi shook his head. "Come on, let's go before Tezuka really does assign us those laps." He silently glanced at Momo, and caught the appreciative glance that was sent his way. The second year then proceeded to glomp Echizen.

Huh. Maybe that talking to was all he needed. He had no reason to protest as he followed Kawamura out. As they both had bad wrists and hands, they would be working with the captain on their endurance levels.

He hadn't much hope for a break, even after yesterday.

It was after he entered his room that day that Momo finally allowed his huge grin to fall. Had he really been that obvious, his avoiding Echizen?

He had just wanted time to figure out exactly what Sengoku had meant. The teen's words still haunted him. What had given him the impression that Echizen had been dead?

_"I saw his grave."_

Even now, he found himself trembling at the statement. Four words. Those four words had completely messed him up. And his friends had begun to notice, which was even worse.

He'd ruled out lies. Sengoku had no reason to lie to him, especially since his team was counting on Seigaku to make it all the way to the top. He wouldn't have said anything like that to mess him up. And Sengoku wasn't a mean person. He wouldn't have that just to screw with him for the fun of it. That was way out of character, and Momo had immediately discarded the idea, once he was in his right mind.

Maybe Sengoku had just been delusional. There was no way Echizen was dead. Maybe there had been another Echizen and he'd mistaken it for Seigaku's freshman wonder. Just because Echizen's last name was obscure didn't mean that his name couldn't randomly appear in a cemetery. And

Why, then, was this still bothering him? There was all the evidence in the world that his Echizen was still here.  
Maybe it was the sense of mortality that he'd discovered. That it wasn't hard for any of them to just kick the bucket one day. And he knew that if that were to happen, there would be nothing he could do about it.

His hand suddenly made friends with his face.

What was he doing here, moping? He'd just said it himself, there was nothing he could do about it! So worrying would do no good. Being cautious was a good thing, but there was a limit. He needed to get his butt in gear and his mind back in shape. He'd become pretty emo lately.

And with that inner monologue, Momoshiro Takeshi was completely back to normal. Almost.

_I still have a bad feeling, though._

_YAY FOR ORIGINAL PLOTLINE. That Hyotei arc was just what I needed to replenish my muses for this plot! School hasn't been bad, but the stresses of growing up are starting to pile-in. Don't worry, none of it will affect my writing. _


	12. Chapter 12

I'm feeling happy. Why? Because this story is really starting to come together. As always, thank you for the support.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis™. This _IS_ fanfiction, after all.

Warning: I'm relying on the anime version of this series. So, for those of you who are a little lost, the events may not always coincide with the manga.

The morning of Tuesday, July 15th dawned just a tad melancholy, if not overcast.

Ryuzaki Sumire scanned the airport. The last time she had been here, it was see her former charge off, as he ran into the forest known as the future. Now, she was sending another student of hers halfway cross the world, in the completely _opposite_ direction: trying to salvage his future.

What surprised her more was said student's eagerness to accept the offer that Hyotei's Coach had extended. She had openly gaped at him, and explained the complications that would arise; he would be gone for a while, long enough that he may not make it back for nationals. He had simply accepted that, and begun preparing himself for the trip. As he left, Sumire had found herself wistfully thinking about how this shouldn't be necessary.

While she could and did admire the loyalty that these young men paid their club and its members, it was far too frequent that one of her pupils injured themselves. The fact that her most responsible ones had been the injured targets this time around only drove home how serious this could become. Granted, Oishi had been hurt because of a completely legitimate cause - and one unrelated to tennis - but he still couldn't properly play for a while yet.

She glanced over at her companion; he was resolutely facing one direction. After pondering it, she realized that their school was in that direction. She found herself smiling softly. They were obsessed, every single one of them.

Tezuka, for his part, was thinking to the night before last.

_Oishi turned towards him, just as practice let out. "Hey, Tezuka, do you have anything planned today?"_

"_No, nothing in particular."_

"_That's good, in that case…"The other teen strode off, talking to all of the regulars in turn. He could only follow him with his eyes. What could he be planning?_

_The band of regulars was meeting up at their favorite sushi shop; the Kawamura Fish House. Currently, Kikumaru and Momoshiro were watching their friend as he worked. Despite the duo's teasing, his skills were obviously well honed for a kid in training. Momoshiro was choking on a piece of sushi; apparently it had been stuffed with wasabi, and the second-year couldn't handle it. _

_As the others began gathering at the designated park, the curiosity about the meeting was dwelled upon more and more. The teenagers were growing slightly antsy. It appeared no one present knew exactly why they were there. _

_Ryoma looked slightly dubious. "So, everyone gathers… without knowing anything?" As if cued, the sole absent regular came running down the path. _

"_Sorry for being late!"_

"_Geez, you're late…"_

"_Yeah, and you're the one who called us out, too!"_

"_So, what did you want to talk about?"_

_The vice-captain smiled brightly. "Well, we're all going to go mountain climbing!"_

"_What?!"_

"_Mountain climbing?"_

_At least he looked a little sheepish at his outright proclamation. "I thought it would be nice to watch the sunset together. I'm sure it will be great." When all he'd garnered were stares, he had to hold back his smile a bit. "What's wrong?"_

_Ryoma, tactless as ever, spoke up. "Ah, it's what I thought it'd be for you to call us in such a hurry." His idea was met with several other voices of protest. "I'll pass."_

_Fuji chose then to spoke up. "Well, I'll go. I've never seen the sun rise from a mountain top, anyways."_

"_Me, too!" _

"_What're you going to do now, Echizen?" The freshman looked somewhat uncertain, unlike his earlier, bored expression. _

"_Same to you, Momo_-sempai_."_

_And with that, the feel of his audience was reversed. Looks like their night would be spent climbing. _

And Oishi had been correct. The sunset they'd seen was incredible. Not only that, but the time they'd spent, off the court, had given him memories of his team as people, and not just their styles of tennis.

It was times like these that would help him move through the training that he'd be enduring. If recovering in Germany was what allowed him to remain with those people, then to Germany he would go.

Of course, he couldn't explain it to his coach. It wouldn't do to show any attachment to his regulars; favoritism from a position of power was generally frowned upon.

Kunimitsu found himself smiling slightly at their gob smacked expressions. Just this morning, he'd informed them of his decision to leave Japan, heading for a land far away. It was remarkable, really, how quickly his stoic teammates' composure slipped.

As his flight took off, his gaze once again traveled towards his school. They would still be training, preparing for the next match, and for their next opponents. He only wished he could be part of it.

A wish for the future, he was sure.

Kiyosumi grasped for his phone as he grabbed a bench, flipping the screen open as he went. The number on the little screen was unregistered. Who could it be? "Hello, the Lucky Lucky Sengoku speaking. How can I help you?"

There was a groan form the other side. "You need to change that greeting, Sengoku-_san_; it's kind of cheesy. Anyways, I was womndering if you'd be willing to come and watch our match against Rokkaku. I'm still having a hard time comprehending what you told me, and maybe someone else's opinion and view will help me out. It might as well be you; we do share the same concerns."

He found it odd that the brash student was being so vague; was he being overheard or something? "You mean about Echizen, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Sure, I'll be there. Hyotei really didn't offer the kid enough of a challenge; I'm iffy to make any sort of call on that play alone. Plus, if we're both watching for it, I'm sure no mistake will make it by us."

His tone was uncertain, but the other teen answered in the affirmative. Kiyosumi sighed. "Listen, Momoshiro, I don't have any more of a clue than you do, but we _will_ find a way through this mess, alright?"

A huff that may have been a sob sounded. "Yeah, okay. The meeting is…"

After the boy had hung up, Kiyosumi found himself staring up at his ceiling. The whole thing really seemed to have affected him; he almost felt bad. If he'd known it would affect him, so long after the fact, he might've held back his knowledge. But they'd both seen Echizen in the match against Hyotei. Aside from a very select few, who could only copy via intense practice, who _would_ be able to impersonate someone so flawlessly?

And if Echizen had really died, wouldn't there have been some sort of news from the family? Things weren't adding up, and maybe this extra chance for observation and consultation would help him find out the solution.

He just hoped that it would come soon enough that it didn't permanently interfere with Momoshiro.

_Poor Momo, I torture him so much! And fear not, my loyal friends, I shall not be pulling a Hyotei with Rokkaku. It's just to move this story along. Thank you always for your support. _


	13. Chapter 13

Another week, another update! Welcome back to Counterfeit Prince! Last time- wait, this isn't any cartoon! Also, and I know I've said it before, read CAREFULLY! Any little mistakes *hinthint* are intentional, and might clue you in to what I'm planning.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Warning: Remember, I follow the anime plotline, so you manga readers are probably going to be thrown a bit off. Also, this is going to start trailing off the beaten path of canon, so don't rely so much on the series anymore.

As it just so happened, the match with Rokkaku held out over two days, on account of Echizen's match running so long that it was postponed. This resulted in Sengoku and Momoshiro's talk also being withheld.

They, however, weren't the only ones to notice things were a tad off with their young protégée; many of the other regulars spotted a nameless thing within their freshman's behavior.

"Uh… Does Echizen's play seem a bit off to you guys? Something about it seems a tad… strange." Kawamura's voice was whisper-loud as he watched the second half of the match.

"I can't be certain." Inui's glasses flashed, and everyone leaned, in hoping that his insight might help them all make the connection. "But I believe you're right, there appears to be something wrong."

"It's his stamina, right?" Sengoku came over. The regulars turned, surprised to see him here. He raised his hands as though to defend himself. "Whoa, Momoshiro invited me here! He wanted my help with something."

"Now that you mention it, yes." Inui snapped his notebook open and began writing. "His stamina seems to be in question, and something that I don't have any sort of data on. No matter how in shape you are, there are limits to everyone's potential, and this is pushing what we have established for him." They watched the match progress a bit before he continued. "Either he's been doing some training on his own, or he's been lazy or hiding this potential of his from us."

Sengoku nodded; that confirmed his thoughts that they didn't fully understand their teammate as well. "Momoshiro." The second-year turned to him abruptly. "I haven't been completely honest with you. Walk with me for a moment?" Ignoring the other five regulars, he drew the other teen away.

Momoshiro himself looked really mad. "What do you mean, Sengoku-_san_? What are you hiding?" The fact that he'd been stressing over something that may have been unnecessary had just slapped him in the face. What else could there be?

Yamabuki's Lucky Boy had the sense to look sheepish. "Well, I was kinda hoping you would see it for yourself. But, that day in the graveyard, I actually got a better look at the guy than I told you. He… Momoshiro, he looked like Echizen with long hair." Taking a deep breath, he pushed the proverbial knife as deep as it could go. "Had it not been for his hair, I _would _have thought it was Echizen. Sorry… I just… I don't have any idea about what's going on."

Momoshiro slumped against the vending machine at his back. This was getting to be _way_ to much. "Alright, man. Can't say it too sincerely, but thanks for telling me."

Sengoku looked away. "I don't what else speculating will do. Maybe we could confront Echizen, but we're stuck now. Sorry for dumping all this on you; good luck with making it to nationals!" His wave of farewell was tossed over his retreating back.

Momoshiro found he couldn't say anything other than, "But Echizen hasn't won yet!" back.

A few yards away, someone stood stock still as the brief meeting ended. What was wrong with Echizen?

Inui found himself sitting late one afternoon in the clubrooms. He was working on the newest training regimen for the team. Echizen had lucked in his surprising stamina, but if they encountered opponents of that variety again, then the team would be in trouble. Likely, only three or four of them would survive such an onslaught.

Thus, he found himself worrying over the entire team's schedule. The constant recalculating that he was doing was appreciated; it meant that what he and they were doing was working. But it was also time consuming. Meaning that if they wanted maximum results, he would be working harder. He wouldn't complain, though; it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

Inui found his head turning towards the door as a gust of wind pushed on its squeaking hinges a bit. The room did need to air out, after all; the smell of old sweat was a horrible thing to be aware of at six in the morning. With it came the natural stirring of papers. The one that drew his interest had floated up from the ground and landed innocently on his lap.

_Dear Ryoma,_ -Was this one of those so called love letters?

_Your match against Rokkaku yesterday was really awesome! The way the whole thing played out was remarkable. And the fact that you had to go over two days was seriously amazing! I could go on and on about how great you are, but I've got to leave soon- _

And there the letter abruptly stopped. The last few words had a rushed and scribbled feel, and the way that the paper was crinkled slightly hinted that the paper had been on the floor for a while. Though there was no date, he could tell that this had been written a while ago; Rokkaku's match had been at least a week ago.

What's more, Inui didn't even recognize the handwriting. Maybe it was from one of the girls that came to watch? He'd have to ask everyone else.

The next morning, Inui passed the mysterious letter around the club before the practice sessions began. Many heads were shaken as he inquired about the handwriting. And none had given any sort of sign that they were lying either. So then it was one of-

Out of the corner of his eye, Inui saw their freshman wonder crumple and toss the sheet, looking tired and nonchalant as he did so. Evidently, he hadn't been the only one to catch him in the act.

Fuji's smile wasn't as large as it normally was. "Echizen, now why would you do such a thing?" It was also slightly intimidating, if Inui did say so himself.

The boy yawned under the murderous glares. "It was some sort of chain mail, right? Those stupid curse things that people like to spread around. It's better if we get rid of them."

He saw Fuji's smile adjust, only slightly, but it was enough to raise his hackles. "As a matter of fact, Echizen, it was a letter addressed to you. You must've just hurt someone's feelings, throwing it away like that. What do you have to say for yourself?" The third-year was subtly gauging the reaction that statement got him.

Echizen shrugged as he exited the changing rooms. "Whatever. You better hurry up before you assigned get extra laps."

Fuji sighed; Inui copied him. That was danger- "Ah, well, he's still young. He'll learn, soon enough." That eerie smile was back in place. The Data player found himself shuddering without precedent.

Ryoshi's heart was beating, and it wasn't because of the practice that had just let out.

He'd been feeling light headed all day, ever since he saw that letter. How could he have been so stupid as to leave it lying around? His room was spotless, yet he'd actually believed he'd misplaced it there?

And then he comes to school to find that one of his _sempai_ had managed to find it and was, in fact, sharing it with the entire team.

Ryoshi was five cents away from succumbing to cardiac arrest.

He found himself relieved that he hadn't managed to finish that letter, or he really would've been in trouble.

He found himself losing focus as he landed on his cushy bed. _Sorry, _aniki_, I almost let you get away from me._

_Okay, so I have an excuse as to why this took me so long to get up~! I couldn't stop flipping over to my net browser and looking at this series on dA called _PictureThis _by _Tyshea_! It's so addicting! Go check it out! NOW! Seriously. And as always, thanks for the support! It means so much to me, every time I get that little email from FF._

The plot thickens! _ Sorry, I couldn't help myself. Also, just occurred to me, happy 13__th__ update!_


	14. Chapter 14

Hello again! Geez, it feels like much more than a week has gone by.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. That belongs to someone else.

With an increasingly high frequency, Kaidoh found himself wondering about the impudent freshman.

Oh, no, he wasn't wondering about him in _that_ way, how could you even suggest that?

But recently, a lot had been to the freshman; any more negativity might affect his playing.

First it had started with that damn Momoshiro. He abusing the kid, and avoiding him, and doing anything he could to hurt Echizen. Kaidoh had seen the freshman shrink away from others, pouting in his own little world.

Then, apparently he had been talking to his old opponent from Yamabuki. That guy – what was name? Senjoku? – also seemed to be avoiding the kid, though it was far easier for the senior than the junior. It certainly had been hard enough to notice.

Kaidoh still didn't understand what the duo had been discussing. His initial impression had been that there had been something wrong with the freshman, but after observing a bit more, the only thing he'd found to be wrong was the amount of strength the boy had actually possessed.

His next hypothesis had been that the two's suspicions were just them being paranoid, but he'd discarded it immediately after conceiving it. Sengoku, for all his silliness, had been a reasonable fellow. Anything that might have had him worried was probably worth some sort of speculation. And while Momoshiro may have been a dolt, his habit about worrying weren't very easily provoked.

For now, Kaidoh withheld his judgement, deciding he hadn't heard enough to make any sort of decision about a course of action. He supposed he'd just have to wait and see.

Then, there was that letter that the entire team (present) was fussing about. Echizen didn't even have the courtesy to look at it! What if it had been important? For all he had known, it could have been from some recruiter, or from a friend.

All in all, Kaidoh found himself more and more confused. His opinion of the freshman had been clear from day one. He didn't tolerate overconfident people, especially know-it-all brats. He despised breaks in uniform. He also despised Momoshiro, but that was a tale for another day.

And the insolent freshman had demolished every single one of his peeves, defying them as though he had been made to do it.

And now the entire team was stirring about something or other, all of which led right back to the kid.

Kaidoh hissed to himself; this was turning out to be a bigger problem than he had anticipated. He would observe for now, and hope that it didn't get too much worse. Otherwise, he would get Inui-_sempai_ onto this.

He turned his attention back to the road. He wouldn't be the one to lose Rikkaidai. He wouldn't let some newspaper dictate who won and who lost.

This was it. The day that they would either repeat history, or make it.

The entirety of the newspaper circulation had been going on about the superiority of their opponents for weeks, ever since they had earned their place to face them in the finals. Everyone seemed to be of the opinion that the match was already decided.

They obviously hadn't been attending Seigaku's matches.

Oishi gazed at the team, and then cast his eyes skyward. Tezuka would've been proud of the sheer essence that the group radiated. They were ready for this match, far more than anyone might have thought them; certain defeat was certainly a harsh burden.

But then, they didn't view this match as an inevitable defeat. They viewed it as an opportunity, one to be grasped with both hands.

Inui had a stack of computer paper; presumably the notes he'd typed up on his computer. Kaidoh was doing some light stretching not far from where the data player sat. Oishi had seen their relationship grow recently, and was set at ease seeing them in the Doubles 2 slot.

He'd tried to avoid Eiji, wanting peace before the oncoming terror that this match was proving to be, and so his own partner was pestering Fuji, who was flipping through an album of some sort. The cat-like boy seemed to be enthralled with the pictures, so maybe he would ask to look at them later.

Kawamura was talking to the coach. Actually, now that he took a closer look, it seemed as though she may have been scolding him. Though he could understand; he didn't want any sort of repeat of the Hyotei match.

Momoshiro seemed to be battling with himself, over at the vending machine. His finger would hover over one option, only to fall back to another. His freshman companion was lounging against a nearby tree, sipping occasionally at a can of his favorite soda.

They all appeared to be so relaxed, but in reality, they were preparing themselves for what would definitely be another long match, physically and emotionally.

Much more than the finals was at stake here. He had heard about some of what was going on within Rikkaidai. Apparently, their captain was also absent with some sort of disease. Oishi's heart went out to the other teen who was fearing for his life rather than enjoying it as all teenagers should. He knew that his teammates and friends all felt the same. The subdued attitude was assurance of that.

Across the way, he could see the other team, their opponents, also doing their own things, though they were listening to something that their vice-captain was saying. His eyes caught Sanada's, and he felt the trepidation within him rise, just slightly, at the nod that came from the other.

They weren't really acknowledging Seigaku.

The newspapers suddenly didn't hold as much weight as they had before. This was personal now.

This means war.

_Sorry for the lateness. Today has been extremely long. Special Olympics and pep band for five hours in the wind… And my luck was running especially low. Anyways, as always, any sort of feedback is highly appreciated, and always taken into consideration. Next chapter will be a summary of the events that made up the finals. Thus, this chapter is a tad shorter._


	15. Chapter 15

Update 15! Rikkaidai's fights, and then we get to some action. I'm also considering getting a beta reader, just to help with the quality of this story, so if you'd be willing to help…?

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis

Sunday, July 27 held many hopes and dreams on high wires, where they could fall from heights greater than Mt. Everest itself. And it all went down in Japan, on some public court for some middle school tennis competition.

The earth certainly worked in some odd ways.

The two teams participating on these wires – or rather, the one participating on the wires, and the others who were walking on air – were facing each other over a two-and-a-half foot net. A few particulars were mugging each other, but it was peaceful. Many compared it to the calm before an inevitable storm, one that promised massive devastation.

All tuned out the call of rules, as they had heard it a hundred times before. Instead, some of the opponents began psyching themselves up, made primarily of those who had been mugging others just then. Body parts began twitching in mock attempts of warming up. When the referee had finished, and the teams had been dismissed back to the stands, the side battles began.

As with Hyotei, cheers erupted from the opponents side, but they weren't the practiced things that had gotten onto Seigaku's nerves during that particular match. Instead, it was an organized, normal cheering that one saw more often at some American football game, an it engendered Seigaku's own cheering squad.

No matter how much some had been fretting, the week of rain that had postponed the matches had everyone's blood pumping and ready to finish this. All the insanity that had endured, as well as the trials they had undertaken in this past week alone, not to mention since the beginning of this season, had been so that they could win this match. Because, honestly, if they could beat the Nationals' reigning champions here, then there was absolutely nothing stopping them.

There was also something to be said about the silent vendetta that had recently risen between Seigaku and Rikkaidai. The challenge that both the school and the magazines had issued had been enough to force all of that extra work on them. Their coach had privately mentioned to an old companion of hers that "they suffered so long under pressure that they had all become diamonds." And Ryuuzaki knew that they would keep that promise, to their absent captain as well as themselves.

A few on her team were glancing around the stands, she saw. Many of their old opponents, as well as a few of Rikkaidai's, had shown up. Then again, this was a match to see. She had refused to partake in a betting pool among the other coaches, as that would have been a very Nanjirou-like thing to do, but she had absolute faith in her team. Most people were betting against her team, but a few had seen the potential in her team, and were literally gambling with luck.

A couple had confided in her that it was because of the unpredictable ways that the regulars played. They always seemed to pull a win from a situation that otherwise seemed impossible. Even the disastrous match with Hyotei that had ended with two of her regulars injured, her confidants assured her, had been a remarkable show of strength on Seigaku's part. It is with such confidence that they trusted their wallets to her.

Sumire glanced at her list. First was the doubles 2. Against the better judgment of some of her colleagues, she had decided to try out a new pair. Momoshiro and Kaidoh both had the potential to do great things together, if they could only get over their constant bickering. Hopefully, this pressure of having them work together at a practically national level would get them past the petty fighting long enough to secure a win.

Next would be the Golden Pair versus a Yagyuu and Niou pair. Come to think of it, one of Doubles 2's player's first names was Jackal. Rikkaidai seemed to have a bit of a weird naming habit. While she wasn't too concerned for her team in Doubles 1, she still warned them to be cautious, as you never knew with Rikkaidai.

In Singles 3 was Inui. It had been a while since he had played solo, so she was anticipating his performance. This was the perfect opportunity to show off all that extra training that she knew he did. She hadn't heard too much about his opponent, but rumor had it that he was a carbon copy of Inui; a teen who utilized numbers just as much as Seigaku's counterpart.

Singles 2 was Fuji versus Kirihara Akaya. She had heard rumors of the boy's viciousness, especially towards Fudomine's captain. She heard that he was apparently still in the hospital from the injuries Kirihara had given him. However, she also knew of Fuji's friendship with the captain, as well as his vengeful tendencies. And of a small altercation between the two in front of Tachibana. She couldn't say she was looking forward to the match, but she would be lying if she said she wasn't curious about how these two forces would finally manifest themselves.

At last, in Singles 1, was their freshman monster. It had been a real gamble, as he was their youngest player as well as the one with the most disadvantages. But something about the boy really represented that evolution that her colleagues spoke about. The boy improved by leaps and bounds in every match he played. The more overbearing the opponent, the more he struggled and grew. It was a gamble, but one she felt comfortable making. Well, as comfortable as one could be when facing the best team in the nation.

As the Doubles 2 pairs made their way back onto the courts, she found her seat on the bench provided. Only fate could tell what this day would bring.

Ryoshi allowed himself a moment to dwell on his journey. The sheer level of talent that he'd been given the privilege of witnessing had left its mark. On both him and his brother. He glanced to his left to see his brother leaning forward in anticipation. He, above anyone else, had been waiting for this match, and would've been devastated had he not been able to play it.

This had never been about the team, though that was a bonus that had come along with his victories as they continued advancing up the ranks. For Ryoma, it had always been about the challenge he got from playing, about how much he improved, how much closer he got to finally pulling a victory right out from under their father's nose. He'd certainly made close friends with the team, as well as some of the people that he'd encountered along the way, but the tennis matches always came first.

Ryoshi, however, felt that something much greater was being born. He knew his brother better than anyone, their parents included. His brother wasn't a social person, and he was awkward and caustic at best when it came to other people. The exposure he was getting to others, especially beyond the court, was helping his brother a great deal. Ryoma was learning, and for once it hadn't much to do with his passion.

Ryoshi sat back as the match began. Suddenly, before he could really comprehend it, his heart was pounding as his brother faced Sanada.

His brother was nervous.

A memory flashed up, something that he'd said an eon ago, to this same person as they stood across from each other on a similar court. How Seigaku wouldn't lose, and that it was in fact Rikkaidai was _their_ stepping stone. Now was the time he had to make good those words, and preserve his team's honor. And he wouldn't be the only one fighting for those same reasons. The only difference Ryoma and Sanada, really, was the amount of expectations that they had weighing on their shoulders.

This was probably the first time in a while that his brother had been like this. It spoke volumes towards his development. And the fact that his opponent was the one to draw it out of him… Ryoshi could do little else beyond marveling.

The match continued, and Ryoshi monitored as his brother struggled against Sanada. It actually got to the point where he was relying on his ears to play. Never, not even against Tezuka or their father had he had to resort to that particular skill of his.

Being an outsider in one of the players' bodies gave him a unique view of the entire ordeal. He could comprehend the individual thoughts of his host, while still being outside the emotional turmoil that Ryoma was going through. He also had the best vantage point when compared to the bleachers and benches. It was because of this that he noticed a strange little habit that Sanada seemed to have.

Every so often he would glance to where his team had stood, though where they had disappeared to was a mystery. It looked as though the boy had wanted to follow them, even while he was trying to beat Seigaku. Ryoshi wondered at the urgency with which he could recall them leaving, and wondered at what could have been wrong.

Unbidden, and certainly unappreciated, was a memory that drifted to the forefront of his conscious. A memory of a night spent in a hospital, a long time ago, when he had nearly lost his brother for good. Horror descended upon him as he realized what might actually be going on. But before he could really start affecting his brother's play, something strange and new shut him up.

It was a light of sorts, but nothing of the kind that he saw with any sort of regularity. At the same time, it had this familiar feel that he knew wasn't imagined or misperceived.

It was just as he felt himself nearly consumed by the enigmatic light that he became aware of the match, and what had been going on. His brother was using all sorts of moves, and most of them weren't "his."

First came "spot," the very first trick move that he had encountered in this adventure. Sanada fell prey to it, just as Ryoma had the very first time, though he didn't try something foolhardy and dangerous as the latter had.

Next was Fuji Yuuta's Twist Spin Shot, and it might as well have been Yuuta performing it.

Deep Impulse, Hiyoshi's Stance, Akutsu's Jump… all of these players were unconsciously working together to give Seigaku its victory, all through the soul and spirit of one freshman.

"Game and Match to Seigaku's Echizen. Seven games to five."

Sanada approached him, long after the cheering had calmed and the crowd had dispersed. He extended his hand, silently offering his congratulations to the other vice-captain. "That was a good game. I was totally defeated."

"It was a good game. Thanks."

"But it won't go this way at Nationals. We'll have Yukimura then."

Oishi nodded. "And we'll have Tezuka." Sanada nodded, and turned his attention to the freshman. Their hands met in a final matter.

Then the enigma smiled up at him. "Is it okay that you're not going?"

"Hm?"

"Isn't your captain in surgery right now?" Their hands dropped.

"Echizen, we'll meet again at the Nationals. I don't think we've seen even a fraction of what you're capable of." With this, he started on his way. Yukimura was waiting.

Something stopped him, though. A last minute intuition. He turned back to his opponent. "Something tells me you were holding back, Echizen. I hope, when we meet again, that you will have no such inhibitons. Farewell."

As Ryoshi lay down to sleep that night, Sanada's words rang through his head.

Rikkaidai's vice-captain might as well have called him out on his identity. Tennis was all he had; if someone were to start calling it fake, he didn't know what he'd do.

Words spoken ages ago came back to him. '_Stop living for me!_' If people were starting to pick up on who he really was, maybe it was time for him to disappear altogether.

Now, how did he go about doing that?

_Ugh, sorry for the late update. Uber sorry, so much that you don't even know. Sickness and high school are my excuses, and all I can say is that it sucks. A lot. Anyways, here you go. Things are going to start heating up very soon, I promise, and the long wait shall finally come to an end._


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